Even If This Is All There Ever Is
by TMBlue
Summary: AU - Hermione would be married tonight... It sounded so ironic, fate laughing at Ron for his own cowardice. But as Harry reminded him, some things are worth fighting for.
1. Always

**  
Chapter 1 - Always**

Ron paced the entryway impatiently. It wasn't like he expected things to change. He knew what was happening, what had already happened behind the door in front of him. How fair was it that all he could think of was that he never got to tell her that he fancied her, never got to kiss her? He was disgusted, sick with himself for his own thoughts. She would be married tonight. It sounded so ironic, fate laughing at him for his own cowardice.

His shoved his hands forcefully into his jeans pockets, but it was too hard to keep any part of his body still, so he removed them once again as he passed the kitchen door for what felt like the millionth time. He ran a hand through his hair, fiddled with the buttons on his shirt, rubbed his eyes with his palms, happy to focus on the little stars that popped behind his eyelids from the pressure...

And then he heard a click.

His stomach dropped to the floor.

Harry stepped out into the hallway, sliding through the door so he didn't have to open it all the way. He closed it softly behind him. There was silence from the other side, from the kitchen beyond. Harry stood there in the hallway, staring at Ron but not really seeing him. And Ron stared back, his whole world crashing down around him at the look on Harry's face, the defeat and the pain... and most of all, the guilt.

With a very slight nod of his head, Harry brushed past Ron and headed up the stairs, his feet falling so softly on the wood that he could have been floating. Ron followed, unsure of what was to come, unsure if he could make it up the first flight without vomiting on the rough wood. He had to lean over slightly to block out the pain he was feeling, the physical pain in his chest and stomach... and in his heart.

It was strange, but for the first time in his life, he understood heartbreak, and not because his eyes were burning with the tears he refused to let go of, not because of the endless parade of indescribably somber thoughts that hammered his brain repetitively, never ceasing. This was none of those things. This was like a heart attack, like what he'd imagine that would feel like. His blood was on fire, or it was moving too fast through his veins. It wouldn't be able to keep this up. Each breath was a chore, something he had to process and decide to do, no longer automatic.

And then they had reached his bedroom, hardly aware. Harry entered first, almost cautiously. Ron followed, his feet scuffing as they moved from the wood floor to the rug in the middle of the small room, the open window casting a sunset glow about the already orange walls.

And Harry stared at him again, that same look of shame and remorse spilling from his eyes to his lips and every feature, every line across his worried forehead.

"Ron..."

Ron blinked furiously, unwilling to cry here in his room with Harry before him. But his name had acted as a spell breaker, pulling him from the trance that had allowed his feet to move one in front of the other up flight after flight of rickety staircases. And now he was completely lost, his chest aching as if something had been removed, a vital organ he hadn't even realized was so important...

"I want you to..." Harry trailed off and swallowed, his throat moving visibly, his eyes a mixture of nerves and defeat. "You have to kiss her first."

Ron blinked again and a single wet salty trail of his pain blazed down his freckle covered cheek, dripping silently off the edge of his jaw. He wiped it away somewhat angrily with the back of his hand, his cheek a bit rough from not shaving for two days.

"No," he said simply, hardly able to even consider what Harry was suggesting. He couldn't allow himself to hope, to dream, or to believe anymore in possibilities...

"Please," Harry begged.

"No, Harry!" Ron shouted, his voice not quite reaching the level of intensity he was obviously aiming for, as if it had been buried outside the kitchen during his hour long wait.

"Why not?" Harry asked, in that same sad voice.

"I can't..." Ron whispered, his ears filling with atmosphere noise and pounding slightly from the inside in his desperate attempts to keep from sobbing.

"It's the way she'd have it..." Harry tried, but it was obvious that he knew it hadn't been the right thing to say the moment the words had been spoken. Ron shook his head.

"You want me to confuse her, to tell her why I'm going to have to find new friends next year?"

"Ron..." Harry's eyes widened, but Ron ignored him and continued.

"She knows nothing right now, does she… I never told her. Maybe this is why, Harry. Maybe I never told her because _fate _wanted me to have this moment, mixed in with all the... whatever the hell this is I'm feeling - death or depression... this moment where I'm actually bloody _glad_ I never did the _brave _thing. She can be..." Ron's voice cracked... "happy with you."

"You're wrong," Harry said, taking a step towards Ron. "While we're up here feeling like it's the end of the world, she's down in the kitchen feeling the same way."

Ron shook his head again.

"Don't," he warned, silently pleading for Harry not to continue...

"Why? Because you're afraid you might find out that she lov-"

"I said _don't_, Harry!" Ron shouted, his eyes wide and glistening with what was left of the daylight.

"You're just so stubborn, Ron!" Harry shouted back. "I'm giving you a chance, I'm telling you that we can do this, we can get through this. In an hour, I have to go back downstairs and _marry _your _soulmate,_ but-"

"My _what_?" Ron said incredulously, his eyes even wider now.

"Oh come off it," Harry said dismissively. But Ron continued to stare at Harry as if he was seeing him for the first time. "You're meant to be together, you and Hermione. Don't tell me you aren't already aware-"

"Stop, Harry. I mean it," Ron said, but his voice wasn't as strong now, as if he needed to hear what Harry was saying even though his brain was reproaching his heart, warning him about his choices, that he was going down a path he wouldn't be able to return from.

"Tell me one more time that you don't want to know what she said, and I'll be quiet," Harry said, but his tone was unconvincing, like he would find a way to tell Ron someday even if he refused him.

Ron stared at Harry with his mouth slightly open, his desire and confusion very clear in his eyes. Harry took another step towards him.

"She said something, about me?" Ron asked in a very small voice. Harry nodded.

"Of course she did."

Ron looked away from Harry for the first time, his eyes focusing and unfocusing on the checked pattern of his threadbare rug.

This was it, like taking that first step off the edge of a cliff that you're told will lead you to heaven or hell...

He took a long, deep breath, exhaling shakily a moment later.

Was it worse to leave now and never get over the curiosity or worse to find out and be haunted with the knowledge that things could have been so very different if the world had not been so cruel?

He knew that no matter what, he had to at least hear what Harry had to say. He looked up, and this time, he was certain.

"I won't interrupt you again," he said.

Harry nodded and swallowed hard again.

"She loves you, Ron," he said. "I don't know if she wanted me to tell you or not. But she does. She said so."

It was the worst and the best thing Ron could have heard. He took a quick breath.

"I love her too," he said as his eyes swam out of focus, filling with tears.

Harry nodded, accepting the words he already knew Ron would say.

"What should I do?" Ron asked, his voice cracking painfully, so small and timid that it visibly broke Harry's heart to hear it.

"Oh, God, Ron," Harry sobbed finally, stepping towards him and embracing him. "I'm so sorry..." he cried into Ron's shoulder.

Ron lowered his head and closed his eyes, resting his cheek against Harry's hair. Before Ron even realized it, his cheeks were soaking wet, and he tasted salt as the tears he was unwillingly crying slid down onto his lips. Ron held Harry tightly, feeling a small amount of comfort from Harry's warmth. But it was warmth that he knew would soon be replaced with a blizzard. He only had one more hour left.

"Tell her," Harry said, his voice muffled against Ron's t-shirt. "Tell her yourself."

Ron opened his eyes, and though Harry couldn't see his face, Ron sensed that Harry knew what he was thinking.

"She needs to know," Harry added.

Ron continued to stare over Harry's head, his face still partially encased by Harry's wild black hair, but his eyes focused on a random spot on his wall.

"I don't know how to stop loving her," Ron whispered, feeling as comfortable all of a sudden with admitting this out loud as he would be if Harry wasn't in the room at all.

"Then don't stop," Harry said as he pulled back from Ron slightly, his red and swollen eyes looking up into Ron's.

"It's not going to work," Ron said in a defeated tone, but there was a glimmer of hope that had not been there before, and Harry saw it and held onto it with all he had.

"No one has to know," Harry said.

Ron stared at him, his heart racing. Could this be? Was it possible that he had a chance here now in Harry's words? Could they hide this and remain safe? Could he risk his life... no, that wasn't a question. He would risk _everything_, every part of himself, to be with her. His life, his _soul_… The question was _could he risk hers??_

"It's got to be her choice. I can't make her risk everything..." Ron said after a long moment.

"Exactly... which is why you have to tell her yourself," said Harry.

"You really think-"

"Yes, it'll work," Harry interrupted, his voice wavering with very slight uncertainty, but not enough at this point to derail the possibility that Ron was now exploring...

"And if someone finds out? With you two married, it's against the law for me to..." Ron trailed off and bit his lip, thinking hard.

"Like you said, it's her choice, isn't it," Harry reminded Ron. "And I know what she'll choose."

Ron and Harry stared at each other, Harry's eyes showing Ron just how sincere he was, just how confident he was in what he knew Hermione felt.

After a long moment, Harry took a tiny step back from Ron, but his eyes stayed focused on Ron's, waiting for the moment when the communication between them would seal itself, the moment when Ron would give in to a chance...

Harry didn't have to wait long. Ron nodded. Harry smiled up at him for the first time all day. And Ron finally told his brain that even though the plan wasn't smart, even though he had just signed away his future to the same fate that had tortured him with a pain he could never have imagined, it was over. The decision had been made. And now, the only thing left to do was the one thing he had been too cowardly to do until now.

With a nod shared between them, Ron turned, breaking eye contact with Harry, and stepped out onto the landing, heading slowly down the stairs to his future...

* * *

_**A/N:** So, I know I shouldn't be starting ANOTHER new story, but I couldn't help myself today : ) I leave you all with this little beginning and wish everybody happy holidays! I'll be back in a week or so, hopefully with an update to Questions : ) And just so you know, this story is rated for future chapters that I'm planning... I'll put warnings on the more intense/mature ones so if you don't want to read those, you can just skip them.  
_


	2. Believe Me

**Chapter 2 - Believe Me**

He heard the door to Ginny's room opening, then shutting with a click. He swallowed, trying to force the large lump in his throat to clear as he made his way down the last flight of stairs that separated him from Ginny's room.

When he reached the door, he couldn't make himself knock. He could hardly breathe. He stared at the bare wood of the door, focusing on the grain as his heart pounded a hole through his chest.

But suddenly, he heard his sister's soft voice downstairs and he knew... _he knew_. Hermione was the only one on the other side of this door, this thin wood that separated him from her. He imagined he could see her through the door, standing by the window, her back towards him. And she would turn when she heard him entering.

He lifted a shaky hand and knocked so quietly that it would have taken a miracle for her to hear him... but she did. He felt that in some way this encouraged him, like impossible things could be possible in this world he was now forced to exist in, a world in which his best friend got the only thing he had ever really wanted in the end...

"Come in," came a voice that seemed to float on the air that separated them. It was her. His heart stopped. He turned the knob and stood in the open door, watching her where she stood with her back towards him in the dark room, facing the window as he had imagined. But she did not turn to face him.

"Hermione..." It was softer than a breeze. He took another step into the room.

"Come to see if I'm alright?" came Hermione's unnaturally shrill voice. But somehow, it was still so quiet, nearly a whisper. It was a combination he couldn't remember ever hearing before.

"Not exactly..." Ron replied, and he noticed her back stiffen slightly, as if she hadn't been sure it was him in the first place. That was when he realized he could just barely make out her face in the reflection that was cast on the panes of glass directly in front of her, the outside world now bathed in near complete darkness. She had looked up and was looking back at him. Or at least that's what he sensed from the direction of her face and the position of her eyes that blurred with the slight blemishes in the glass.

"I imagine Harry's told you the decision?" Hermione asked in that same voice that could be described as cold and distant while simultaneously holding more emotion than Ron could imagine. He sensed that she was trying not to show her weakness in front of him now.

"Yes," Ron said, licking his dry lips and clearing his throat.

"Right," she said, moving her head back slightly so he could no longer see her eyes, her face covered in thick shadow, the outline still discernible.

Ron glanced desperately around the room, realizing now that he had no idea how to do this, how to start the conversation he had come down here to have, especially with Hermione turned away from him, so cold and far away...

Ron closed his eyes softly, his eyelids flickering slightly from the lack of total closure and pressure. When he opened them again, he caught Hermione's eyes in the reflection once more for a fraction of a second before she moved an inch back away, removing herself from his scrutiny.

"I... I came down here to talk to you..." Ron tried, hoping that he could just magically find the next words to go on with while he stalled for time, his hands shaking violently at his sides now, his legs twitching.

Hermione said nothing and didn't move an inch. It was like talking to a wall... and he realized he might be able to use that to his advantage. After all, telling an empty room that you love it wasn't a particularly hard thing to do... was it?

He looked away from the window and from her back, hoping to distract himself long enough from her pain to let the words he'd been hiding spill out, but he heard a stifled sound from her direction and his eyes flicked back over to her.

"Hermione..."

"Don't, Ron!" she shouted in a warning tone, and he felt like he was familiar with what she was doing. He had just been warning Harry upstairs in the same voice... but he had lost that war and was determined that Hermione should soon lose hers. But she went on, and he quickly realized that she was not warning him against the same thing he had been desperately trying to protect himself from moments ago in his room. "I don't want your pity or anything of the sort. Harry's my best friend. This is a... a terrible way for this to happen, but that's all. It's just how it is. I don't really have a choice, and I don't want to be treated differently."

"That's not why I'm here," Ron said quickly, surprised with how strong his voice suddenly sounded.

Hermione remained silent, and it was once again up to him to speak next.

"There's something... I have to discuss with you," he said, and he hated how professional his voice sounded, like he was about to review a business deal with a potential client. He closed his eyes again. He had no idea what he was doing. He couldn't do it... He just couldn't.

"Go ahead and... and get it over with, Ron. I don't have a lot of time to mess around..." She sounded almost angry at him, and he felt that she had good reason after the way he had just spoken.

"Okay." He opened his eyes and stepped closer, and he noticed her tense up again. "Look at me."

She didn't move.

"I can't do it like this..." he said, more to himself than to Hermione, but she moved back towards the glass so he could see her reflection again, and he wondered if she was doing it for him, giving him _something _when she couldn't bear to give him what he'd asked for.

"Would it help if I guessed?" Hermione asked. Ron stared at her reflection, trying to make out her expression. He felt confused, but his stomach was jumping painfully around as if she had just read his mind and was about to say aloud what he couldn't find the words to express. "I think you _do _feel sorry for me. You know I wouldn't have... _married _Harry otherwise. He's... like my _brother_... your... best friend. And you-you feel sorry for me. I understand that."

Ron opened his mouth but Hermione rushed on.

"But in the end, I'm not the only one who's stuck with this. In fact, I'd say I'm one of the lucky ones, wouldn't you?" He could hear her voice faltering as she continued very quickly so he wouldn't be able to stop her. "I'm sure there are plenty of Muggle-borns who are still lost, still unable to find someone, a good enough friend to give up their future in order to save them, don't you think? Harry's doing something I can't imagine. He's saving my life, but he's ruining his own. When I first read the news, that Muggle-borns had to marry to be exempt from the current _massacre _that's taking place-" Ron flinched at the harshness of her voice and the simultaneous casualness with which she discussed the disgusting laws that had recently been put in place "-I knew one of you would step in. I just knew it. And when we found out that pure bloods weren't allowed to marry Muggle-borns without their whole family being at the same risk as the Muggle-borns, I knew Harry would do it. I just knew. Before he even told me. I knew because he loves me. He loves you too. He'd do anything for us. Anything." Hermione could not completely hide the sob that she tried to cover with the continuation of her unnatural and slightly alarming speech... "So, in the end, I'm lucky. And that's how you should see me. So if you have anything else to say, go ahead. And if you don't... I need to get ready now, please."

Ron remained silent for a full thirty seconds when Hermione had finished. He watched her breathing. He could see her shoulders moving slightly and could even see the slight fog that appeared on the glass with each of her sharp exhales. Her arms were wrapped tightly around her body, and he thought she might have been looking at him, but he couldn't be sure. It was too hard to make out the direction of her eyes through her reflection.

"Are you through?" he finally asked, his voice disturbingly quiet. Hermione seemed shaken by it and did not answer, so Ron continued. "I've just been pacing outside the kitchen convincing myself that you'll be happy with Harry, that he'll _make _you happy. You know why? Because I didn't pity you. I'm much too selfish for that. You know what I've been doing instead? Wishing I could die, hoping that some disease would just take me away so I wouldn't have to throw myself off the Astronomy Tower when we get back to school."

Hermione's shoulders tightened very noticeably, and she gasped almost silently. Ron knew he was probably upsetting her, but he had to say it. He had to tell her everything the way he was saying it now so that he could get to where he had to end up...

"Then I talked to Harry upstairs," he continued. "You'll never guess what he told me."

Hermione remained silent, but after a brief moment, Ron heard her crying. He knew she hadn't meant for him to hear, and his heart melted inside his chest when he realized that he was making things a lot worse before getting to the point...

"He told me something," Ron pressed on, "that made me come down here and decide that... well, that maybe I didn't have to die after all."

"Ron..." Hermione begged. She obviously wanted him to stop. But he pressed on, so close to what he had been aiming to say...

"Harry seems to think that you... love me."

Hermione cried openly all of a sudden and before he could comprehend it, she whipped around to glare at him, her angry, tear-filled eyes boring into his. He was taken aback by her red face and tightly crossed arms and by the force with which she turned to face him.

"He had no right to tell you that," Hermione said in that same shrill voice. "Get out, Ron."

"I haven't gotten to the point and... I'm not leaving until I do." His voice wavered ever so slightly with the second part of his sentence. He swallowed, his ears pounding with the force of each of his heartbeats.

"Nothing you're saying right now matters to me. Do you get it? I don't want to see you right now! Go back upstairs." Her voice cracked and she broke eye contact with him, trying fiercely to keep her tears away from Ron's gaze this time.

"I'm about to tell you something that I've wanted to say for years, Hermione! And I'm going to say it and you're going to listen!" His voice raised with each word until he was practically shouting at her. He wondered for a split second if anyone downstairs could hear him, and that idea caused him to rush to the door and slam it shut, hoping to block out his screams from everyone else, knowing that he wasn't nearly finished yelling... and that she certainly wasn't either.

"You really are incredibly selfish, aren't you!" Hermione screamed, her face turning even redder. "You don't care that all you're doing is making things worse! Are you making fun of me? Is that what this is about?!"

"No!" Ron shoved his hand forcefully into his pocket and drew out his wand, aiming it for the door. "Muffliato! Imperturbatus!" He turned quickly back to Hermione, his wand still in his shaking hand.

"That was pointless!" Hermione spat out, her eyes growing even wetter and more narrow. "I'm not staying in this room with you for one more minute!"

"That's fine! I won't need that long!"

"I hate you!"

"Well that's too fucking bad because I _love _you!"

Hermione stood with her mouth hanging open, shock filling every feature. After a long, horrible pause...

"No, you don't," but she sounded a bit unsure.

"You're right," Ron said sarcastically. "I've just come down here to tell you that as a bloody joke. Ha ha. Three years of hoping you don't catch me staring at you across the Common Room... Oh, but that was all just a damn hilarious joke! See how it's paid off?!"

Hermione continued to stare wide-eyed at him, and he watched as her lips began to tremble.

"You... you really love me?!" she asked through a forced back sob.

"You couldn't tell?" Ron asked.

He thought for a moment that she was going to finally break down, finally let another wave of tears escape. But instead, she swallowed hard and straightened up, and he was horrified to see that the wall she had put up around herself before he had told her was returning quickly.

"It doesn't matter. I'm about to marry Harry. So... so you might as well start getting over your... _crush_... or _whatever_..." She said her last words a bit dismissively, and he wondered if she was trying to convince herself of them to make it easier...

"I don't care," he said, his voice soft and gentle now but a bit hoarse from shouting. "I want to be with you. This thing with you and Harry... it doesn't mean anything, does it. But I _love _you, Hermione. Maybe I can never... marry you... but I'll never stop loving you. I don't care if it means no one can ever find out."

Hermione stood stunned in front of Ron. He knew that she had never heard him speak this way before, that she hadn't even realized he had ever thought about the things he was now saying. She continued to hold back her tears however, and he watched, sure that her chest was tightening as his was now, the weight of everything now so heavy that he couldn't sustain it for much longer without falling apart.

"You... you aren't thinking straight," Hermione offered. She sounded almost terrified of Ron's next words.

"Yes. I am. Believe me," Ron said, his voice strong now. "I haven't had long to decide, that's true. But I know one thing. When Harry pitched this totally mental idea to me, all of a sudden that sickness that I wished I could get? Well, I forgot why I wanted it in the first place. So now I'm sort of stuck. I'm not giving this up, I'm not going to just move on... unless you say it's what you want. I can't let you risk all this for... _me_."

"You're serious..."

Ron nodded, finding it hard to speak all of a sudden.

"You're serious," Hermione repeated, her lips trembling again. "Promise me you aren't..." Her voice cracked and she blinked. "Promise you're not just doing this because Harry went and told you what I said."

"I can't do that," Ron said softly, "because when Harry told me, I realized I had a chance, and it gave me the courage to stop being a prat and come down here and let you know how much this means to me. I'll do anything. You're all that matters to me."

And finally, Hermione could no longer hold back her tears. She sobbed loudly, and in an instant, she had reached Ron and wrapped her arms tightly around his waist, burying her head in his chest. He held her against his pounding chest for as long as he could manage before his curiously took over and he couldn't stand it any longer...

"What does this mean?" he asked, realizing afterwards how silly he must sound. "Is this a yes or a no?" He felt her shake and wondered if she was laughing... She moved her head away so she could look up at him.

"You thought I could possibly say no?" she whispered.

Ron had never grinned so wide in all of his life.


	3. Consequences

_**A/N:** So just to let everyone know, this story assumes that Ron, Hermione, and Harry returned to Hogwarts for their seventh year instead of what really happened in Deathly Hallows (they are about to return after the summer after sixth year). So they are all seventeen and presumably still attempting to fight against Voldemort and the Horcruxes, etc, but I'm not actually going to deal much with that aspect of their lives. I'm focusing on the relationships, so you can just assume what you like about what's happening to them as far as the Voldemort / war plot. But everything from books 1-6 happened as the books say it did as far as this story is concerned : ) Enjoy!_

**Chapter 3 - Consequences**

Hermione rested her head against Ron's chest, hiding her grin and her red cheeks from his view. He smiled over the top of her head, feeling almost drunk. Somehow, all of his depression and despair had been wiped away to be replaced with complete bliss. His life now looked beautiful, and he could not see past this moment. He didn't want to anyway.

A knock on the door caused Ron and Hermione to pull instantly apart as if burned. Hermione stared up at Ron, pieces of her hair flying about her face wildly. He tilted his head towards the door with a half-smile.

"See you," he whispered, and he closed his eyes and turned on the spot, Disapparating at once.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Ron was still pacing his room impatiently, going over the same bit of carpet he had been treading since he had appeared, a bit dazed, in the room after Disapparating from Ginny's.

Suddenly, he heard extremely fast footsteps moving up the stairs outside his room and he stopped dead, facing the door, his heart pounding so hard it was actually a bit painful...

And, without knocking, without taking a moment's pause, Hermione burst through the door, rushed into the room, kicked the door shut fluidly, and flung herself at Ron, her arms wrapping around his neck and her lips pressing against his. He was so startled that he nearly fell backwards and only just managed to catch himself on the edge of his dresser, his arms flying around Hermione to support her weight against him. His eyes remained open wide, staring back into hers until he was able to fully comprehend what was happening... that she was _kissing _him! He clamped his eyes shut and moved one hand to the back of her head, lowering her slightly so her feet were once again on the ground.

When she finally moved back a fraction of an inch, he sucked in a much needed breath...

"Holy shit..." he mumbled, panting. But before she could reply, he crushed her lips again, his eyes shutting immediately this time. He had never kissed anyone like this. No one had ever kissed _him _like this either... not that he had much experience. Lavender was the only girl he'd ever snogged. But, if asked, he wouldn't even know where to start describing the difference. This wasn't even in the same category, not really even the same event.

He couldn't breathe. He was drowning in her. He had to let go, had to move away or he would die. But would that really be so bad? He was already in heaven.

Reason finally overtook him, and he moved back just enough to gasp in air again.

"I have to go..." she managed to choke out, panting just as hard as he was. "They're waiting..."

Ron tried to reply, but it came out as an indistinguishable moan. Hermione closed the inch that separated their lips and kissed him very gently before pulling away and stepping back. He allowed his arms to loosen so she could move, though he wasn't at all ready to let go.

"I'll come back. I'll come right back," she breathed.

"Bloody hell..." Ron murmured, unable to come up with anything to say that wasn't an expression of how overwhelmed he felt. Hermione was smiling shyly up at him... he was staring. She was absolutely gorgeous. Her hair was even more of mess than it had been before. Without thinking, he moved forward and brushed through her hair with his fingers in an attempt to tame it. "Okay..." he said, looking down at her, trying to remind himself to keep breathing...

"I had to..." She paused and looked away from his eyes, her cheeks reddening even more if possible... "I wanted to kiss you first..."

Ron nodded, smiling.

"So did I," he whispered.

She grinned up at him, and he returned it, sure that everything he was feeling must be very neatly written across his face. Oh, but it felt so wonderful not to care...

"Go and get married and then come back up here so we can continue this..." Ron said, his grin widening. Hermione rolled her eyes, but the laughter that accompanied the gesture made it clear that she was anything but remotely upset with his terrible joke timing.

"Okay," she said, allowing a stifled giggle to escape which made Ron laugh back, happier than he could ever remember being. "I'm going..." She backed away from him slowly, both grinning widely at each other, their faces flushed. When she finally hit the door, she turned, giggling again, and swung it open, stepping out into the hall. She took one last glance back at Ron before turning and heading down the stairs, trying desperately to wipe the giddy grin off her face and replace it with something a bit more appropriate for the occasion... at the very least, a blank stare...

The moment Hermione vanished from his view, Ron spun around and suppressed a scream, remembering at the last moment that he couldn't let anyone hear him shouting from joy while Hermione was on her way downstairs to marry his best friend... That just would _not _make sense...

He couldn't keep still. He paced his room again, but this time out of pure jubilance. He ran his hands through his hair, laughing as he passed his dresser where he had just been experiencing the best few moments of his life thus far. When he heard footsteps again outside his door, he paused and stared, his heart racing yet again, wondering if it could be her returning, but these footsteps were not nearly as pounding and insistent as hers had been, so he tried his best to arrange his face into a relatively neutral expression as he waited to see who was coming...

Ginny appeared in the doorway, looking sadly in at him.

"Ron," she started. Her eyes met his. "This is so stupid..." She rolled her eyes. "Mum wanted me..." Ginny trailed off and sighed, giving Ron an apologetic look that peaked his curiosity. "She wanted me to make sure that you wouldn't like to come down for the... ceremony." Ron felt his stomach twist now as he was forced to think about Hermione kissing Harry.... Hermione _kissing _Harry! It was horrifying... She wouldn't kiss Harry the way she had just been kissing, _right_?... No...

He shook his head.

"No, definitely not," he said, not that he had had any former plans of attending...

Ginny nodded.

"It was so obvious to me, but Mum just wanted to be certain."

"Yeah," Ron said automatically, but his stomach was a bit unsettled now, and he moved to sit at his desk chair which had been pulled to the side and now faced his door where Ginny still stood.

"Ron..." Ginny said again, her voice tentative and pitying.

"I'm fine, Gin," Ron said, trying to sound reassuring but not to the point of suspicion. Ginny nodded, but continued to look at him with sympathy.

"I'm really so sorry, Ron," she said, her eyes a bit wet.

"Me too," Ron said, thinking all of a sudden of Ginny. She and Harry wouldn't be able to be together either, not unless Harry decided to tell her about Ron and Hermione's secret relationship. And now that Ron thought of it, he felt rather sorry for his sister. He wondered if Harry would tell her. They hadn't discussed it. But Ron said nothing else to her now and let her turn her back towards him. She turned back to face him once more just before she disappeared from view.

"If you need anything..." she said, allowing her voice to trail off as she seemed to realize that there wasn't much that could be done.

"Thanks," Ron said simply, wanting her to go so he could stop focusing on the little snag in his new relationship with Hermione... the one where she was being forced to marry someone else.

But Ginny nodded quickly, turned, and was gone, her footsteps lighter this time on the stairs as she slowly headed back down.

Ron stood from his desk chair, closed his door, and leaned back against it, surveying his room. It was a bit of a mess, and he could think of little else to do to distract himself in here now other than clean... so he set about straightening it up, sure that Hermione would appreciate the effort at least. He grinned when he thought of her again and shook his head to clear it as he began to fold clothes...

* * *

He wasn't sure why he had been expecting it to take longer, but the moment he heard footsteps and voices once again outside, he dropped the book he was holding and turned towards the door, caught off guard. It had only been twenty minutes! They couldn't be done already... could they?

But sure enough, he heard Hermione and Harry's soft voices as they moved up the stairs, closer and closer to his room. He ran to the door and swung it open, stepping out just enough to look down the stairs at them as they approached, a grin spreading across his face when he spotted Hermione. Harry and Hermione stopped talking at once and both looked up at him, breaking into smiles, Harry's a lot more soft and bittersweet than Hermione's and much less goofy. Harry glanced at Hermione and rolled his eyes playfully.

"Glad you worked it all out and all," he whispered as he moved up the last few steps to join Ron on the landing, Hermione just behind him, "but this is just sickening."

"So it's done?" Ron asked, completely ignoring Harry. Hermione nodded, and Harry instantly looked extremely guilty.

"Harry's just getting a few things..." Hermione explained, her eyes never leaving Ron's. Ron nodded but didn't move out of the doorway. He was too focused on Hermione to realize that Harry needed him to move to enter the room.

Harry stared at Ron for a full ten seconds, giving him a chance to figure it out and move out of the way, but it was no use. Ron was completely oblivious.

"Seriously?" Harry asked incredulously, but he was grinning at the pair of them.

"What?" Ron asked, finally breaking eye contact with Hermione to glance over at Harry, confused and already blushing.

"Move," Harry said with a chuckle. "You're blocking the door..."

Ron blinked.

"Oh!" He scooted out of the way looking sheepish. "Sorry..."

Hermione covered her mouth as she giggled, and Ron's attention immediately returned to her.

"You think my cluelessness is funny, do you?" Ron asked, raising an amused eyebrow, his grin back in place.

Hermione nodded behind her hand. Ron reached up and took her hand away from her mouth, lacing their fingers together.

"Better not stand out here any longer. If someone wanders up here... well, we're not doing anything _close _to hiding what's going on..."

Hermione laughed again, nodding, and pulled Ron into his room where she shut the door. While Harry searched for a book on Ron's desk, Hermione and Ron stood staring and grinning at one another yet again, this time out of view of anyone else but Harry. Ron kept holding her hand, and she was perfectly happy to keep holding his back.

When Harry turned towards them again, he smiled and shook his head.

"All yours," he said to Ron, slapping him on the back. "Now move over. Again."

Ron scooted to the side, but then a thought occurred to him.

"Harry, what's the story?"

Harry furrowed his eyebrows at Ron.

"You know," Ron continued, "what does everyone else think is happening right now?"

"Well, I've been mostly staying in Fred and George's old room, haven't I," said Harry. "So that's what I'll be doing tonight, same as always. Just had to collect some stuff I brought up here over the weeks since I've been here."

"Right..." said Ron, biting his lip and thinking. Hermione watched him, distracted by his lips, but Ron remained oblivious as he pondered the plan. "So what about Hermione?" he asked, blushing.

"What _about _me?" Hermione asked back, smiling. He looked down at her.

"What's _your _plan?"

Hermione shrugged, but quickly explained...

"I told Ginny earlier that I was going to stay in Percy's old room for the night. I moved my trunk in there earlier so she thinks that's where I'll be and I doubt anyone will bother us tonight... so, if I need anything, I can just Apparate down to Percy's and grab it from my trunk and come back up here without anyone seeing me."

Ron blinked at her.

"So you _do _want to stay here for the night?" he asked in a small voice.

"I-I..." Hermione stammered, clearly nervous that maybe he had not intended for her to stay in the first place. She searched Ron's eyes, trying to read him. But then he grinned and she stopped trying to speak.

"Brilliant," Ron said. "Nice job planning."

"Right, I've had enough of the two of you shagging each other with your eyes, thanks," said Harry, smirking in a satisfied way when he watched their faces turn brighter shades of red. "Goodnight."

He opened the door and stepped out onto the landing, but at the last minute, he reached up and pulled on Ron's shirt, bringing Ron's ear to his mouth.

"Silencing charms are your friends," Harry whispered.

"Harry!" Ron shouted, looking over at Hermione, wondering if she had heard. But she looked puzzled, and he assumed she probably hadn't.

Harry laughed and let go of Ron, and, with a wave, he headed down the stairs, still smirking.

"Wanker," Ron muttered as he pushed the door shut.

"What did he say?" Hermione asked.

"Nothing," Ron lied.

"Ron." Hermione put her hands on her hips.

"It was just something stupid..." Ron murmured, moving into the middle of the room and away from Hermione, hoping she'd drop it but knowing she wouldn't.

"Ron," she tried again, this time hardly hiding her chuckle. Ron rolled his eyes and faced her again.

"Fine. You know a few silencing charms, right?" Ron asked, his face red.

"Yes, of course, and so should you..." Hermione began, looking slightly confused. But she began to slowly catch on and Ron nodded.

"Harry's a prat."

"Oh," Hermione said, trying not to grin.

"Yeah..." Ron ran a hand through his hair, feeling his cheeks burn.

Suddenly, there was an awkwardness that hadn't been present before. Ron wanted it to end in a way, but he was also enjoying everything about this new part of his life, the part that had been missing for so long... the part he never thought he'd really have in the end.

Hermione stepped very slowly forward and finally, after what seemed like ages, she reached Ron and took his hand shyly. She looked down at their joined hands, her fingers moving against his knuckles.

"Want to sit down?" Ron suggested, feeling strange all of a sudden standing in the middle of his room. Without waiting for Hermione to reply, Ron walked over to his bed, tugging her hand gently so she would follow him. She sat right next to him, but instantly decided that she was not close enough and scooted over so their legs were pressed together, their joined hands resting on Ron's thigh.

Ron was content to just sit this close to her, feeling every bit of her that was touching him along his left side. But as seconds ticked by, he felt his mind drifting to the past twenty minutes, the ceremony that he hadn't seen, and he began to wonder...

_What if she didn't kiss Harry? But she obviously did. That's part of it... She knew when she left here that they would have to. That's why she kissed me first. So Hermione kissed Harry. Or Harry kissed Hermione. Either way, they kissed. Her lips and his lips touched... Oh, hell, I feel sick... But it's fine. It won't happen again. She loves me..._

"Hermione?" Ron began before he could even process what he was about to ask.

"Hm?"

"You had to kiss Harry, didn't you..."  
_  
_Hermione said nothing, but he felt her tense up beside him.

"It's fine. I knew you had to. I just... sort of wanted to know... well..." Ron couldn't finish his sentence. He couldn't possibly find a way to ask such an awkward question. He ran through options in his head, each one just as impossible to say aloud as the last... _What was the kiss like? How long did it last? What did you think about? Did you kiss Harry back or did you just wait for it to be over?_

Ron swallowed, deciding that it was easier to just be curious and jealous than to actually ask any of those things...

"Do you want to know what it was like?" Hermione asked suddenly in a small voice.

Ron looked over at her, clearly relieved that she was going to tell him and that she had been able to read his thoughts so perfectly.

"This is what it was like..." Hermione leaned up to his mouth and kissed him very gently, her lips barely touching his. It lasted a split second, like a kiss on the cheek between friends. Ron hardly had time to close his eyes before it was over. He looked down at her for a moment before speaking.

"That's it?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

Hermione nodded and he felt instant relief flood through him.

"Well, that's nothing."

"No," Hermione said, smiling. "Feel better?"

"Loads," Ron admitted, smiling back at her.

"Good," Hermione said, letting go of his hand. "I'm going to to brush my teeth and change," she said, standing from the bed.

"Okay, me too," Ron smiled. "I'll be here when you're done," he added unnecessarily. Hermione grinned at him and quickly Disapparated from the room.

Ron headed down the stairs immediately to the bathroom to brush his teeth, wondering a little excitedly if he'd run into Hermione there. But she must have gone to Percy's first because he finished before he ever saw her. He returned to his room and changed clothes quickly while he waited for her, excited and nervous about the prospect of sleeping in the same bed with her. It wasn't like he expected anything to happen beyond more kissing. He wasn't sure he was even ready for something like that... no, he knew that he wasn't. But the idea of being so close and intimate with her, even just during sleep, was thrilling and terrifying at the same time.

He crawled into his bed and leaned against the headboard, his feet bouncing absentmindedly. Just as he started to wonder how long Hermione would be gone, she returned, and Ron had the impression that she had rushed getting ready in order to come quickly back to his room. He smiled as she climbed into his bed. She laid on her side facing him, her back towards the wall. He slid down the headboard so their heads were close on his pillow and he grinned lazily at her as they both settled into the mattress.

"Comfortable," Hermione said thoughtfully.

"My bed?" Ron asked, as if she could have meant anything else. He mentally rolled his eyes at himself for his dumb question. But Hermione just grinned.

"Yeah," she said.

"Well, it's pretty old," Ron said. "Surprised I can't feel the springs through it yet actually. Pretty sure Mum's patched it a few times over the years."

Hermione shuffled her feet, kicking Ron's blanket out from under her legs so she could pull it up over them. Ron reached for it too, and with a quick toss, he caused the blanket to flutter down over them, covering their heads too.

Hermione laughed as she burrowed the side of her head into Ron's feather pillow.

"Sleep like this a lot?" she asked.

"Gets hot," Ron answered with a half-smile.

"It's cozy," Hermione said as she scooted closer to Ron, her flannel covered legs tangling with his.

"With the lantern on like that it looks like we're living in an orange cave," Ron said, grinning.

"Lovely," Hermione said sarcastically. "There's no escaping the orange."

"Why would you ever want to?" Ron asked, scooting even closer across the pillow. He realized that he'd soon have to decide what to do with his arms. He wasn't sure what was allowed at this point, but at the moment he was awkwardly holding them between himself and Hermione.

"Well, I certainly don't want to go blind before I'm thirty," Hermione said. Ron chuckled.

"Fine," and he ripped the blanket playfully off their heads so it rested on their shoulders.

Hermione shifted against the pillow, still smiling. Her hand found its way to Ron's again and he let her lace their fingers together. But he felt cool metal against his warm skin and momentarily furrowed his eyebrows at her curiously before realizing what it must be. So he pulled their joined hands out from under the blanket and inspected her ring finger. Sure enough, there was a very simple, relatively thin gold band on her finger. Ron swallowed, trying not to think too hard about what he was staring at.

"It won't ever come off," Hermione said, and when Ron finally glanced at her face again, he saw that she was staring at the ring too, her eyes wet.

"That's okay," Ron said, squeezing her hand. "It's..." he paused, then grinned. "It's a nice ring that your mother gave to you."

Hermione looked at him, puzzled.

"You know, for your birthday... or was it Christmas?"

Slowly, Hermione caught on and understood what Ron was doing, that he was pretending she wasn't married in the first place, that her ring was nothing more than a present from her mother and that she was wearing it for that reason only.

"Oh yes," Hermione said, nodding. "Christmas actually."

"Ah," Ron said. "Thought it might have been."

They smiled contentedly at one another for a moment before Ron did something relatively daring. He let go of Hermione's hand and snaked his arm over her side, down her back, pulling her closer and holding her tightly. She smiled and he was sure he heard a sigh escape her...

He rested his forehead against hers.

"I wish we didn't have to go to Hogwarts tomorrow," Hermione said finally.

"Hermione!" Ron shouted immediately, pulling back from her slightly, looking a bit horrified. "You don't want to go back to school?!"

Hermione shook her head, looking amused.

"Of course I do... but I wish we had more time before... well, before we're around so many people."

Ron raised his eyebrows at her.

"You _know _what I mean," Hermione continued. "It'll be harder to... hide what we're doing at Hogwarts with everyone watching."

"Oh," Ron said, understanding. He smiled sadly. "Yeah. At least it's just one more year."

Hermione nodded, but still looked a bit depressed.

"It's okay," Ron continued. "We're seventh years. You're Head Girl and I'm a Prefect. You can boss me around, make me go out after curfew with you to make sure all the castle's broom closets are in order..."

Hermione laughed, rolling her eyes.

"We'll see who's laughing in November," Ron went on. "You'll be forcing me out of bed at five in the morning to-"

"Ron!" Hermione interjected through a giggle. "November?!"

"What?" Ron asked, having clearly expected Hermione to be shouting his name in order to interrupt whatever direction he was taking his rant, not to be reprimanding him for putting too _much _time between now and his theoretical date at which time Hermione would _obviously _have no choice but to drag him from bed just so she could snog him before the castle awoke...

"You think I'll make it until November?" Hermione asked.

He stared at her, surprised that she was being so bold...

"Yeah, that was dumb of me, huh?" he said, still looking a little shocked.

"Mm hm," Hermione replied.

"Well..." Ron started, twisting awkwardly to glance at the clock on top of his desk. "It's been... nearly forty minutes since you came flying into my room and almost knocked me down..."

Hermione blushed slightly.

"So, what's your limit? Forty five?"

Hermione slapped him gently on the shoulder.

"No," she said, shaking her head in a disapproving way. But then... "Forty one..."

She tilted her head and he had just enough time to close his eyes before her lips met his. Their bodies pressed together without either of them really realizing it, as if the need to be closer was too overwhelming to avoid. His hands were everywhere... in her hair, gliding over her back, sliding across her shoulders...

They parted, panting, and Ron allowed his eyes to flutter open, breathing through his mouth.

"If I survive tonight, I'll be surprised," Ron said through gulps of air.

Hermione nodded, looking very serious, her eyes dark.

Their next kiss was just as intense as the first. As he allowed his senses to completely take over all rational thought, he felt his whole body melting against hers, like they belonged this way for all time. And when they finally separated again...

"You're right... Hogwarts can kiss my ass..."

Hermione stopped dead where she had been moving in towards Ron's lips again.

"Wash out your mouth before I kiss you again," she said, trying very hard to hold back her laughter.

"Nah, I think you like it," Ron said as he closed the gap between their lips. Hermione didn't even think of protesting.

Breathing heavily, they eventually parted once more, and this time, both of them felt the weight of the day closing in on them. They blinked, neither one wanting to sleep yet, wanting to make the night last as long as possible, but in Ron's mind, the sleeping bit was going to be nearly as exciting as the snogging had been... well, close at least...

He thought of things he should say, things he wanted to say... he wondered if he could say them now, if he'd be able to form logical sentences with his brain as mushy as it had recently turned. But before he had the chance to process anything he might want to attempt to say to her, his eyes were slipping shut...

* * *

Ron awoke in his very dimly lit room, the lantern on his bedside table nearly completely burned out. Hermione's forehead was lightly pressed against his lips. Her body was curled around his, facing him on her side. He moved his foot ever so slightly, but the tiny motion resulted in Hermione tangling herself even closer and further into him automatically. He thought briefly of turning away from her to blow out the lantern altogether, but when he heard her moan contentedly in her sleep and felt her hand on his side, her face nuzzling against his, his eyes fluttered shut and he was unable to even consider moving any part of his body even an inch...

* * *

Ron awoke the next time to a very cold room, but to an absolutely beautiful voice in his ear.

"Ron... Ron..."

He rolled his eyes around behind his eyelids before cracking them open to look up into Hermione's eyes where she was hovering just over him, sitting on the edge of the bed. She smiled down at him and he sighed happily.

"Hey," she said, reaching up to rest her hand against his cheek.

"Hvm," he mumbled. She grinned and he lazily attempted to grin back.

"Sun's up," Hermione stated.

"Oh," Ron mouthed, looking decidedly unconcerned with this fact.

"Which means Ron has to be up," Hermione continued, still looking amused rather than upset.

"Mmm mm," Ron said, which in his head translated to a logical argument for him staying in his bed all morning...

Hermione laughed.

"Up," she said, and as she started to move away from him, his slowly shutting eyes opened all the way again.

"Don't move," he managed to murmur.

"Ron, do you want everyone to find out about us this quickly? You know what that'll mean, right?"

"Nope," Ron said, grinning.

"Ron! Get up!"

He attempted to shake his head but Hermione stood now and put her hands on her hips.

"I was going to kiss you but at this point I think you're just too tired to appreciate it."

"'M up," Ron said quickly as he tried to push up against his headboard. Hermione raised her eyebrows as he blinked rapidly.

"Are you?"

"Yes," Ron said, nodding enthusiastically.

"Fine," Hermione said as she leaned down into the bed to kiss him. But he was too quick for her and had pulled her completely back into the bed before she could protest. She made a noise into his mouth that sounded like his name, but he merely grinned against her lips and squeezed her against his chest with one strong arm.

But general noise from several floors below broke Ron out of his Hermione-induced trance and he released her, looking thoroughly unhappy about it...

"You'd better get to Percy's I reckon," he said grumpily.

"Yeah," Hermione agreed, looking just as reluctant and disappointed as Ron sounded. "See you downstairs for breakfast..."

She lingered in the room for a moment longer looking sadly into his eyes before she turned and Disapparated from the room...

* * *

Breakfast was awkward to say the least. Ron and Hermione spent the whole morning trying not to even look at each other for fear that someone would figure out what was going on between them. Ron knew that he was being much too paranoid, that it was unlikely at best that anyone would be able to guess that Hermione had slept in his room and that they were now planning to continue a secret relationship with one another indefinitely...

They loaded the car quickly and were soon squished into the backseat on the way to King's Cross. The rush was enough to distract Ron and Hermione from each other until they had reached the platform. Mrs. Weasley pulled Ron away from the others at the last moment before they had to board the train. She lead him to a secluded corner and looked up at him sadly.

"Oh, Ron," she said before leaning against him for a watery hug. "I'm sorry so. I know... well, I know how you must be feeling..."

"Mum," Ron interrupted, afraid people might start to notice them as his mother was now practically sobbing into his shoulder. "I'll be alright. Don't worry."

"Oh, dear," Mrs. Weasley said as she pulled back finally. "It's completely unfair. You don't deserve-"

"'M alright," Ron said, trying to reassure his mother. She looked into his eyes for a moment and he tried very hard to look neutral so she wouldn't be able to read his mind. He felt, at the moment, like she almost could...

"Alright," she said, pulling his head down and kissing him on the cheek. "Try to stay out of trouble and... and study hard," she added almost automatically as if unsure what to say, what she could say at a time like this. Though Ron had never told his mother of his feelings for Hermione, he knew that she was aware of them. It was so easy to tell what she was thinking, to understand her even when she didn't say exactly what was on her mind. She always made it quite obvious and he was glad for that in a way. He never had to hear the awkward words that he could conclude from her tone or her inferences.

"Bye, Mum," Ron said as he parted from her to join everyone else as they boarded the train. "See you at Christmas." As he stepped onto the train, it began to sink in that it would be Christmas before he'd be able to sleep in the same bed as Hermione again. This concept was more than a little bit repulsive and he set his mind to the task of coming up with some devious way to make it happen somewhere, somehow in the castle over the next few months...

* * *

As Head Girl, Hermione was traveling up and down the train corridors long after Ron was allowed to take his seat. He had wanted to continue roaming about with her, but she had given him a look that clearly said that it would be much better if he simply took his seat with Harry and Ginny, so he returned to their compartment and thought longingly of the previous night until five minutes before they arrived at Hogsmeade station when Hermione finally re-entered the compartment.

"Took you long enough," Ron said casually, trying not to seem like he had been thinking of nothing else... But Harry caught his eye for a brief moment and he was sure they were on the same page...

"Sorry," Hermione said, huffing as she sat down next to Harry. "It's a lot more work being Head Girl. Everyone was asking me questions in the corridors. I could hardly patrol."

Ron nodded.

"We'd better get changed," Hermione said, standing again and grabbing her robe from the luggage rack.

* * *

Hermione sat on Harry's side of the table at dinner. Ron spent the first ten minutes of the meal sulking silently about it and trying to hide it. It was becoming more obvious by the second that he was going to have a much harder time than he had even guessed at hiding his relationship with Hermione. It wasn't that it was hard to pretend to be angry with her. After all, they had had plenty of practice at _really _being angry with each other over the years. The hard part was the fact that he wasn't actually angry with her at all. Quite the opposite. And he didn't want her to think that he was when he wasn't. But what could he really do about it? She seemed to be taking a slightly different approach and was ignoring him altogether...

_Fine,_ Ron thought. _Maybe that'll be easier..._ So he allowed his eyes to wander about the Great Hall. And that was when he first started to realize how many people were missing. A lot of students hadn't returned. Perhaps the married ones had chosen not to come back? He shuddered just thinking about it. But then he caught sight of several Ravenclaw couples who seemed to be sitting closer than usual and he wondered if they had actually been lucky enough to marry the person they had loved in the first place...

Because the law only applied to of age students, there weren't actually that many obviously married couples that he could pick out. He figured that part of the reason was because the majority of students with Muggle relations had at least some magical blood in their family tree and therefore were not subject to the law the way Hermione was...

He sighed and was soon following hoards of students out of the Great Hall, hardly realizing that he was moving at all.

"Ron!" He whipped around at the sound of Hermione's voice. "Are you a Prefect or not?" she asked, her hands on her hips, her eyebrows raised.

"Oh, right," he said with a half-smile. "Sorry." And he set about helping Hermione to corral the students back to Gryffindor tower...

* * *

That night, Ron lay awake in his bed, tossing and flipping over, sighing and adjusting his blankets, trying to make himself at least remotely comfortable. But it wasn't much use. He missed Hermione terribly. She was like a drug to him, and he had become desperately addicted after only one day. He mused for a moment about what had become of him in such a sort amount of time. But when he tried to think of how he would be feeling now if he had never told her that he loved her in the first place, never taken Harry's advice...

He shuddered just considering what that would mean...

And he decided that no matter what, no matter the consequences now, they'd find a way to make it work... because the alternative was death in his mind. It wasn't worth living without something to live for... and she was his reason to go on breathing.

* * *

The next night, Ron sat in the Common Room across from Hermione, glancing at her surreptitiously over the top of his Potions book, and on more than one occasion, he happily caught her doing the same.

Finally, she stood with a sigh and put her books away. Ron watched her curiously.

"Ron," she said, and he jumped slightly from being addressed so directly.

"Yeah?"

"We have rounds," Hermione said, trying to sound less than thrilled.

"Oh, right," Ron said, nodding. He bagged his books too and stood. "I'll just put these upstairs," he added, picking up his bag.

"Me too," Hermione said, and she turned to head up to the girl's dormitory. Just as Ron turned to head up to the boy's dormitory, Harry caught his eye and winked slyly before returning to his own book and acting very convincingly like nothing had just happened. Ron smirked to himself as he carried his bag upstairs. When he returned to the Common Room, Hermione was standing by the portrait hole, looking impatient.

"Right. Let's go," Ron said and he motioned for Hermione to step through first. He followed her and remained walking next to her silently for the first five minutes. But suddenly, just when he was trying to work out how to speak properly now that they were finally alone for the first time since arriving at Hogwarts, Hermione grabbed his hand and darted to the right, sliding gracefully into an empty classroom, pulling him with her.

"Better check for curfew breakers in here..." she said.

"Yeah-" Ron started, but he was cut off by a pair of incredibly soft lips. He heard but did not see the door to the classroom clicking shut. His eyes were closed too tightly as his hands moved up Hermione's sides. Hermione pulled back first.

"Is this a bad idea?" she asked, her breath hot on his lips.

"Definitely not," Ron concluded before capturing her lips again. She pulled back a second time a moment later.

"Why did I even bother to ask you? Of course you wouldn't tell me if it was..." But she leaned against him and kissed him again. Before he realized what was happening, Hermione was backed against a table and was on her tiptoes, trying to sit on the table. Ron's lips never left hers as she finally managed to slide onto the tabletop. But he finally did pull back when he felt her legs parting. His eyes widening, his face flushed, he cupped her cheeks in his hands.

"You're bloody gorgeous," he told her under his breath before kissing her again. She moaned into his mouth and tightened her legs around his waist.

But a sound coming from the corridor outside caused them to break roughly apart. Hermione hopped down from the table looking terrified.

"Ron," she whispered frantically.

"I'll check," Ron said, and he was heading for the door before Hermione could stop him.

She quickly caught up with him, her eyes perfect circles as he reached for the door handle.

"Hey, who's out here breaking curfew?" Ron called to Hermione's surprise. She sucked in a shocked breath next to him. "We're Prefects. You'd better get back to your dormitory before we find you."

"Mr. Weasley?" came a mature female voice from down the hall. Professor McGonagall.

"Professor?" Ron called as he stepped out of the empty classroom, Hermione right behind him.

"Yes," she said as she moved into view near a torch about halfway down the corridor.

"Sorry, Professor," Ron said as he walked a bit further towards her. "We're making rounds and we thought we heard someone in this empty classroom. Then we assumed you were them when we heard footsteps outside here in the corridor."

"I see," she said, nodding. Ron was relieved to see that she looked quite convinced of his story. But after all, why shouldn't she? He was a Prefect after all. And Hermione was Head Girl. "Just me out here," she added. "But you'd better hurry along. It's nearly midnight."

"Yes, Professor," Ron said, nodding.

"Miss Granger," Professor McGonagall acknowledged as Ron and Hermione passed her to head back down the corridor. Once they were sure they were out of earshot, nearly back up to Gryffindor tower, Hermione let out a deep breath.

"Ron, you're a damn good liar... That was so close."

"Sure was," Ron agreed. He kept walking alongside Hermione, thinking... "Does that mean-"

"-that we're going to be more careful next time?" Hermione finished.

"Next time?" Ron repeated with a smirk, looking pleased.

"Oh, you couldn't have thought I'd stop just because of something like that."

"Well, honestly, yeah, I sort of did," Ron admitted.

"Ron," Hermione said, stopping just before they reached the corner beyond which was the corridor towards the Fat Lady, "we've got to be more careful, maybe plan a bit more. But..."

Another sound cut Hermione off and she jumped slightly.

"Right. Better get back inside before we're caught out here. Prefects or not, it's midnight."

"You sound way too responsible," Hermione said, looking suspiciously over at Ron as they rounded the corner.

"You're rubbing off on me," Ron said, shrugging. "But," he added, stopping abruptly again. "I've got a brilliant plan. Want to hear it?"

"Go on," Hermione said, stopping to stare up at him, looking curious.

"I think the dungeons are probably a great place for students to sneak off and snog, don't you?"

"Oh," Hermione said, nodding enthusiastically. "I agree completely. We'd better make a habit of checking down there from now on."

"_Thoroughly _checking..." Ron said, grinning at her.

And though he still missed Hermione terribly, Ron slept much more contentedly that night than he had the previous night. And more than one dark, damp stone room entered into his dreams, but it was surprisingly warm there with Hermione in his arms.


	4. Dungeons

_**A/N: WARNING!!** This chapter is one of the reasons why this story is **rated M**! Basically, there is a bit of light smut coming up :) If that bothers you or you wish to skip it, you can do that and the story will still make sense. Just wanted everyone to be aware before continuing :)_

**Chapter 4 - Dungeons**

**One Month Later**

"Hermione!" Ron whispered loudly, chuckling. "Where the hell are you?!" He continued to walk deeper down into the dungeons, his eyes trying to adjust to the thick darkness. As many times as they had escaped down here over the past month, they had never gone this far before...

Hermione's voice echoed from somewhere unseen as she laughed in a deep, ridiculous, maniacal tone, obviously trying to sound scary. Ron laughed out loud.

"Cut it out!" he replied, grinning. But suddenly he stopped, his shoe caught on something soft. He aimed his lit wand down at the stone floor. A sock.

Furrowing his eyebrows, he crouched and picked it up. It seemed familiar to him... but it was just a white sock. Why should...

"Hermione, did you lose a sock?" Ron asked the emptiness in front of him, perplexed.

"Come closer," came a raspy whisper, another attempt from Hermione to sound scary. Ron smiled.

"Right," he said, pocketing the sock. He felt a small bit of cool, familiar metal brush against his knuckles as he removed his hand from his pocket...

He continued along the corridor as it curved to the left, sloping downwards slightly.

"How far down are you taking me, Hermione?" he asked, knowing that she wouldn't reply.

And then he spotted something else white on the floor just ahead. Another sock.

"Found the other one," he whispered loudly, directing his voice towards the continuing corridor once again, wondering if she was close enough to hear him. He stood, pocketed the second sock, and continued along the corridor, moving a little faster, hoping to catch her around a corner. "Don't remember the last time I was this deep in the dungeons," Ron said to the emptiness again. "Wait, not true," he corrected himself. "Chamber of Secrets..."

And then suddenly, a darker and much larger mound of something caught his eyes and he lowered his wand, directing the light towards the floor.

"Ah, your robe," Ron said as he picked it up and slung it over his shoulder. "What did you do with your shoes then? Just thought of that..." Ron mused aloud to no one.

And then he was standing in front of a crisp white something. As he stooped to pick it up, his eyes widened considerably. Hermione's button down shirt. And he was sure she hadn't been wearing anything over it besides the robe...

He swallowed and gently folded the shirt over his arm, standing on slightly more shaky legs than before.

"Closer," came the raspy Hermione voice again.

"Coming," Ron replied in a hoarse whisper.

Steps later, he found himself staring down at a pleated mound of charcoal gray material. Her skirt. His eyes were popping out of their sockets as he picked it up, his hands sweaty all of a sudden.

"Okay, seriously," he said, his voice wavering out of his control. "Where are you?!"

"Closer," she hissed again.

"Damn it..." Ron muttered under his breath as he rounded another corner and spotted something else... And he knew what must be left, the only pieces of clothing that remained for him to locate. And this one was most definitely Hermione's bra.

He could hardly pick it up. The light pink silk material reflected the light from his wand tip... It was so soft and formed perfectly to fit her. He felt the smooth stiffness of it against his fingertips, marveling at the combination of materials. He shook, trying to clear his head as he stood, tucking the bra into his robe pocket. _Only one more thing_, he thought as he continued forward achingly slowly, nervous and giddy.

And then he spotted it. He nearly passed out when his brain finally drew up the results of the clues that he had stumbled upon. Hermione was somewhere ahead of him. And she wasn't wearing _anything_!

His pulse was much too fast. He was going to have a heart attack. He stooped automatically to pick up her underwear, trying not to think about what he was doing. But the moment the soft blue cotton was in his hand, he couldn't tear his eyes away. He was holding Hermione's _knickers_... that she had just been wearing! His robe was much too tight, much too hot against his skin...

When he finally managed to tell his brain to move his legs, he heard her voice again.

"Almost there..."

He shivered and suddenly found himself next to a door that was different from the others he had passed by the fact that there was a small pair of black shoes hanging from the doorknob by the laces. And the door was very slightly ajar.

"_Holy hell_..." Ron mumbled as he removed the shoes from the doorknob. He glanced back down the corridor from where he had just come, knowing that it was unlikely that anyone would be wandering about down here this late, but still wanting to be completely sure. He let his eyes fall shut for a brief moment, preparing himself for what he would find on the other side of the door, but knowing that in actuality, nothing would be able to properly prepare him for this...

And then he was pushing the door open, allowing it to swing forward, his eyes open as wide as they would go. He was breathing in short bursts through his mouth, his chest pounding. The room was nearly pitch black, save a few candles that were lit on the floor across the room, flickering dimly. But they lit nothing much, and he couldn't make out anything or anyone in the room at all. But as Ron aimed his wand into the room, light fell over something in the corner closest to the candles, a soft something like a mound of pillows and blankets... and then... a bare foot.

He gasped, involuntarily moving the light back a bit so he had to retrace his path. But then he was moving the light up again, his eyes taking in the bare foot, bare porcelain white leg that followed until a blood red sheet covered it starting at about the knee. He took a step forward automatically, moving all the way into the room as his wand continued to move upwards, his hand taking over the use of all available rational thought in order to steady the wand light.

A curve in the sheet, and then suddenly, the smoothest, most perfect skin his eyes had ever seen. Her lower back was exposed, though it took him a moment to even realize what he was looking at. And as he moved the light of his wand even further along, taking another step, her bushy hair came into view where it fell over her shoulder blades.

His chest was rapidly rising and falling as he attempted to calm himself enough to move further into the room, closer to her. Then suddenly, he realized that her face was turned slightly so she could probably see him, but her hair was falling into her eyes so he couldn't see _her _properly.

The combination of the deep red sheet over her silky white skin was intoxicating. It reminded him of blood... but mixed with her naked skin beneath and peaking out, it was one of the most pleasurable sights he could even dream up...

"Close the door... and take off your shoes," Hermione whispered suddenly, though her voice was much closer now to its normal sound than it had been the last time she had spoken.

Ron didn't take a moment to question her demand. He dropped Hermione's robe, shirt, and skirt to the floor and reached back to shut the door with a slight thud. He toed off his right shoe, then his left, and stood facing her in his socks.

"Now the socks," Hermione said.

He put his wand in his mouth, holding it with his teeth as he steadied himself and took off the right sock, his left foot moving around comically on the stone floor as he tried to maintain his balance. Then he swiftly shifted his weight to his bare right foot and removed his left sock, tossing it carelessly to the ground.

"Your robe," Hermione instructed.

With his wand still in between his teeth, he pushed his robe off his shoulders. It fell in a heap behind him.

"Now your shirt-" Hermione began, but Ron was already unbuttoning it with shaky hands.

When he finally finished, he shrugged his shoulders and pulled his arms through, allowing the once crisp white shirt to join his and Hermione's other clothes in the growing pile on the floor.

"Keep going," Hermione said in a thick and raspy voice. Ron pulled his thin hole-filled white undershirt over his head, feeling his hair spike out in random directions as the shirt passed over the top of his head. He dropped the shirt behind him and began to unbutton his trousers, convinced that there was a good possibility that he was dreaming. He slid the trousers off his hips and allowed them to fall to the floor where he stepped, one foot at a time, out of them, his legs shaking slightly.

"Come here," Hermione whispered before Ron could consider what she might want from him next...

He removed his wand from his mouth and held it out in front of him again, lighting his way to where Hermione lay naked on her stomach on the pile of pillows and dark blankets that she had probably positioned there herself. The thought made Ron shiver violently with delight as he watched his shadow cover her as he moved closer, closer...

And finally, hovering right above her, he saw for the first time that she was shivering too.

"Cold?" Ron asked, his voice horribly high pitched and unnatural.

"Not really," Hermione answered as she moved very slightly, her hair sliding across her bare back. Ron swallowed hard...

He knelt down next to her, his knees trembling.

"What do you want me to do?" he asked in a timid voice.

"What do you _want _to do?" Hermione asked back in a voice that seemed a lot more nervous than she had let on so far.

A million things raced through Ron's brain all at once and he had to force himself to keep breathing. When he didn't say anything, Hermione went from looking at least a tiny bit confident to not very confident at all.

"What's wrong?" Ron asked.

"Is this all okay? I know I didn't ask you... I just sort of... wanted to... I don't know..." She let her words trail off desperately.

"Bloody hell, Hermione," Ron said in awe... "This is.... well this is just..." he paused and swallowed, "_totally brilliant_..."

She looked up at him again, encouraged.

"I mean," he continued, "I didn't expect..." He grinned, unable to complete his thought. He shook his head, half-smiling down at her. "How did you do all this?"

Hermione shrugged against the pillows she was lying on.

"Set it up early this morning..."

"You planned it out?" Ron asked incredulously, his throat constricting with excitement.

"Yes," Hermione answered simply.

"This is incredible..."

"Come here then," Hermione said, scooting over just a bit so he could join her, but she remained mostly on her stomach, hiding her chest from his view for the moment.

Ron slid under the red sheet with her, his bare legs hitting hers. He groaned involuntarily as he moved even closer, his fingers grazing against the bare skin of her side as he leaned in towards her face. He lowered his head and kissed her, their bodies awkwardly positioned next to each other, Hermione still on her stomach, her arm trying to twist up to pull him even closer. But as they kissed, she seemed to forget about remaining covered at all and turned in towards him. The moment her bare chest brushed his, it was like an electric shock had been sent through his body from his heart out to his limbs. He moaned heavily into her mouth, his hand traveling around to her back automatically to press her tighter against him. His palm pressed into the curve in her lower back, covering a relatively large portion of her skin as his fingers stretched apart to lay flat.

They pulled back for air and Ron's eyes flicked involuntarily down for a fraction of a second to where Hermione's chest met his. He didn't want to be caught looking for some reason, even though he felt that there was probably not much that he wasn't allowed to do at this point... but he knew that she had seen him as her eyes were very purposefully gazing into his when his focus was back on her face again. Even the slight glimpse that he had caught of the swell of her chest was enough to send yet another wave of pleasure jolting through his body. He was on the point of capturing her lips again...

But suddenly he paused, his eyes widening.

"Wait..."

Hermione stopped dead, and he felt her heart pounding against his chest.

"What?" she asked nervously. "What's wrong?"

"Oh_, God, _nothing," Ron practically moaned. "I don't even remember what the word 'wrong' means."

Hermione grinned at him, relieved.

"But I just remembered something... I want to..." His voice trailed off and he slid out from under the sheet, trying to partially conceal the half-naked lower part of his body from Hermione as he crawled across the floor towards his discarded robe.

He rummaged in the pocket for a second, aware of Hermione's eyes on him from behind. And once he had found what he was looking for, he closed his fist around it and crawled back to the sheet, slipping back under again and trying incredibly hard not to look down at Hermione's chest...

Once he had settled in next to her, facing her on his side, he swallowed audibly and looked into her eyes, the light from the candles in the room dancing in her pupils.

"The thing is," he began, "and I think you know this already... if I could have, I would have married you."

Hermione smiled and blinked, tears in her eyes already.

"And now... well we've sort of been together for a _little _while..." He paused, searching her eyes for any signs of understanding, wondering if she would guess what was coming next. "But it's not going to matter if we're together for a few months or the rest of our lives, we can't ever really get married to each other because..."

He stopped, not wanting to even say the words he was thinking, that Hermione was married to Harry and this was what was stopping them. He hadn't intended to say something to upset her and he wanted to rush on quickly to the part he was aiming for...

"But we've sort of been pretending that you aren't, _you know_..." She nodded and he knew she understood, so he went on. "I just... I know how I feel now, how I've felt for... well, as long as I can remember... and you... well you own me, Hermione."

She gave him a puzzled eyebrow raise.

"You know what I mean," Ron smiled. "You could tell me to jump off the Astronomy tower, that it's what you want most in the world, and you know I'd do it."

Hermione giggled under her breath.

"Why would I want you to jump off the Astronomy tower?" she asked, grinning.

"I don't know!" Ron exclaimed exaggeratedly. "You tell me!"

Hermione giggled again.

"The point is... you're sort of _it _for me. When I'm with you, nothing else matters... or really even exists."

"I feel the same way," Hermione whispered, and Ron nodded, glad that she had told him so because it made the next part a lot easier for him to say...

"So let's just pretend that it's only us," Ron went on, "and there are no ridiculous rules or laws and we're just... alive."

Hermione smiled.

"Got it?" he asked her and she nodded. "Right... so..."

Ron swallowed again and very slowly allowed his fingers to fall away from his palm, revealing what was inside. Something shiny, obvious only because of the dim candle light behind him. Something like... chains? And rings! Hermione gasped.

"Marry me," Ron said softly, his voice quivering. He paused as he watched her mouth fall open, her eyes glued to the rings in his hand. "I love you," he continued, "and I'm pretty sure that for some bloody reason you're mental enough to love me back... so who cares that we aren't technically allowed to do this... Nobody has to find out-"

"Yes," Hermione whispered, her voice covered and muffled by Ron finishing his previous sentence. He stared at her, unsure if he had heard her correctly.

"What?" he asked, his mouth completely dry all of a sudden.

"Yes, Ron," Hermione said again. "I'll marry you."

"Really?" Ron asked, awestruck and eyes wide. Hermione nodded, a huge smile growing wider by the second across her face.

"Yes!"

"Yes!" Ron shouted back exaggeratedly.

Hermione laughed, her eyes sparkling in the candle light.

"Here," Ron said through his grin, and he separated the two rings in his hand, holding hers up so she could take it. He worked on separating the chains, his hands shaking, joy overtaking him.

Hermione squinted through her watery eyes as she held the gold band in her hand, turning it between her fingers. It was thicker than the one she wore from her marriage to Harry. It seemed to be made of a deeper shade of gold too.

"Does it say something?" she whispered. "On the inside?"

Ron nodded.

"It's both of our names... with the letters mixed up," Ron whispered back.

Hermione blinked back tears as she stared at the tiny letters lining the inside of the ring...  
_  
RH OE NR AM LI DO BN IE LJ IE UA SN WG ER AA SN LG EE YR_

"So," Ron went on, still in a whisper, "even if someone finds it, they won't know what it means. But we'll know. Did you know that both of our names have the same number of letters? Nineteen. If you look at only every other letter on the inside of the ring, it spells out either my full name or yours. See?"

Hermione nodded, her voice failing her.

"Do you like it?" Ron asked finally.

Her answer came in the form of thick tears. They rolled down her cheeks as she smiled up at Ron.

"Do I like it?" she repeated in an incredulous and hoarse whisper. "Ron, I love it."

He smiled at her, swallowing thickly.

"Does yours say the same thing?" she asked, reaching for the ring in Ron's hand.

"Yeah," Ron whispered back, handing her the ring so she could have a closer look.

He watched her as she inspected them both side by side.

"And I got these," Ron said, holding the chains in his palm so she could see them. "We can wear the rings around our necks so we can hide them..."

He handed Hermione one of the chains.

"Ron," she choked, sniffing. "I love you _so _much..."

"I love you too, Hermione," he said, feeling his own eyes beginning to water. "So, _so _much..."

Hermione leaned against him, her head buried in his neck. He kissed her forehead and allowed his lips to stay pressed to her skin long after the kiss had ended. She sniffed again and pulled back from him, smiling broadly. After wiping quickly at her eyes, she focused on the ring and chain in her hand. She slipped the ring onto the chain and looped it over her neck, then brought the ring up to her lips and kissed it.

Ron smiled and copied her, putting his ring on his own chain and ducking his head through it so it rested close to his heart. The metal was cold against his hot skin, and now that he was done with what he needed to do, he became acutely aware of the fact that Hermione was completely naked and less than a foot away from him. His lips parted as desire flooded him...

"You know I've never done anything like this, right?" Ron asked shyly.

"I should hope not," Hermione replied, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Well," Ron shrugged, "just thought I should be clear..."

"Why?" Hermione asked. "Afraid you won't be good at it?"

Ron glared at her playfully.

"Ron," she laughed. "I haven't either. Clearly. I've only ever wanted... well, for it to be with you."

"Yeah, me too," Ron said, leaning marginally closer to her.

"So... what do you want to do?" Hermione asked, desire returning rapidly to her eyes.

"Everything. Anything," Ron breathed.

"Kiss me," Hermione requested, licking her lips without realizing she was doing it. But Ron used the opportunity to catch her tongue in his mouth and she moaned, arching against his bare chest as his tongue slid over hers. His hand pressed firmly against her lower back again as he felt her breasts against his chest. They had never come close to anything like this before. Ron's shirt had come off one time in an empty dungeon room like this one and his hands had wandered close to the bottom edge of her bra in a broom closet, but _this_...

Everywhere his hands traveled he discovered another new patch of perfect naked skin. His hand slipped lower and he felt the curve out at the bottom of her spine when there was no more back left for him to touch. He had dreamed of touching her like this, but he hadn't honestly imagined that it would happen so soon.

Her lips moved to his jaw, then his neck, and she sucked lightly, causing his eyes to flutter shut. When she moved back, he let his eyes fall freely to her breasts, and he found that he was holding his breath as his eyes greedily roamed over her goosebump covered skin.

He kissed his way down her neck to her collarbone, sliding further under the sheet as he went. When he reached the top of her breasts, she arched into him, rolling slightly onto her back so he was hovering over her. His hot breath covered her as he heavily sucked air in and out between gasps as his lips moved lower and lower towards the little pink circles that marked his final destination.

He had meant to go slow, to drag this out and make it last as long as possible, but his hand slid down from her shoulder a bit farther than he had planned as his mouth was currently occupied with sucking its way down her right breast... and suddenly he felt a tiny pearl-sized bit of a hardened skin and he moaned and gasped at the same time, causing him to almost choke. Hermione's response was similar but even more enthusiastic. Her head fell back against the pillow and her back arched towards him causing her breast to press into his hand.

"_Fuck_," Ron mumbled into her skin as he squeezed gently with his right hand.

"Don't stop," he heard Hermione moan and he eagerly returned his mouth to her chest, his tongue sliding down to her nipple as his body jolted from pleasure.

"This is a dream," Ron murmured against her skin as she breathed out his name. "This is a bloody dream..."

"Ohhh..." Hermione moaned as he kissed her chest again and sucked, dragging his teeth across her nipple this time.

Overwhelmed, he allowed his face to fall against her between her breasts, his hand still cupping her gently. He breathed against her skin, trying to regain some semblance of composure. He knew he had to keep it together in order to make this good for her. He had heard plenty about how this worked, about what could happen if he got too excited. Now he understood. This was going to be the hardest thing he had ever done... just to last until he was actually making love to her... Even the thought of it caused him to feel as if he could lose control at any moment.

"Are you okay?" Hermione panted, opening her eyes to look down as he looked up.

"_So good_..." Ron assured her. "Just have to... give me a second."

Hermione nodded.

"_Too _good," Ron added, and she grinned, understanding. "Uh, Hermione," he started after a brief pause. "This is probably a really dumb question, but you have... protection... right?"

"Mmm hm," Hermione mumbled thickly. "My robe pocket. In a little vial."

Ron craned his neck to look over his shoulder at the pile of clothes on the floor.

"Way over there?" he asked, giving her a withering look.

"Lazy git," she said, pushing up against him. He groaned as her hips pressed against his.

"Okay, going," he said, and he half-jumped, half-lunged out of the bed, crawling fast on his knees towards the pile of clothing. He fished around for Hermione's robe, then plunged his hand into one pocket, then the next. "Got it," he said as he closed his fist around the vial and scrambled back over to where Hermione was lying on her back, her upper body completely exposed. He froze, hovering over her and staring down at her chest, able to see it even more clearly now that he wasn't mostly covering her.

"Cut it out," Hermione instructed, but it was clear that she was torn between embarrassment and elation at the fact that she was able to cause him to react in such a way, his eyes nearly falling out of his head.

"I could never even have imagined something so perfect..." he said as his eyes darted across her bare skin.

"Ron," Hermione said in a skeptical tone.

"I'm serious," he assured her, his eyes still on her chest. "I don't even know... what to say..."

Hermione, clearly feeling nervous from his intense gaze, reached up and took his hand, pulling his fingers away from his palm so she could take the vial from him. She leaned up on her elbows, bringing her chest very close to his face. He tilted his head up to look into her eyes and watched as she uncapped the vial and tipped the contents into her mouth, swallowing and licking her lips to be sure she had taken all of it.

"Where did you get that?" Ron asked.

"You aren't going to believe this..." she started, looking embarrassed.

"What?" Ron asked, his curiosity peaked.

Hermione sighed.

"I sort of..." she lowered her voice as if she thought someone could overhear her admission... "stole it."

Ron blinked at her.

"You what?!"

"Stole it from the infirmary..."

"Are you joking?!" Ron asked, his eyes wide.

"No..." Hermione looked away, blushing slightly. But Ron just laughed.

"Wow, Hermione," he said. "This is a new low for you."

"Watch it, Ron!" Hermione warned. "You _were _about to benefit from my rule breaking..."

"Honestly," Ron continued. "I think it's bloody hot that you'd steal a vial of potion just to shag me."

"Ron! Shut up!" She glared at him, and he smirked at her.

"You're amazing..." he said after a moment, his tone much more serious now.

"Are you sure about this?" she asked him in a soft voice, her eyes very round and dark.

"Totally sure," Ron said without hesitation. "You?"

"I set all this up, didn't I?" Hermione reminded him with a grin.

Ron leaned into her and kissed her, his arm moving smoothly to wrap around her back and support her as he gently lowered her to the pillow again. And then he felt her hands on his cotton boxers, her fingertips moving under the elastic to touch new skin. He wiggled slightly, allowing her to push them down a bit. Her fingers grazed the little ginger hairs that trailed down from his belly button.

"Feels so good..." Hermione said as her hand moved closer and closer... Ron reached down and completely slid his boxers off as she had been struggling to reach. And, kicking his legs a bit, he managed to get them to his feet where he pushed them off one foot at a time with his toes.

One of her legs moved out from under him and as he kissed her neck, she bent her knee and wrapped her leg around his waist, her heel pressing against his thigh.

"Bloody hell, not going to last long," Ron moaned as she moved her other leg around him so her heels were locked together. And then he felt hot wetness between her legs. "_Fuck_..."

Hermione threw her head back as she felt silky soft skin touch her accidentally, their bodies pressed so tightly together.

"_Now_..." she moaned, raising her hips slightly to press more firmly against him.

"I'm sorry if this isn't good," Ron said through another moan. "Oh _wow_..." He felt her legs tighten, closing all available space between them. There was only one thing left to do now...

"_Ron_..." Hermione groaned as if her life depended on his next move, like she needed him to fill her in order to survive. And he almost understood it too, though it made no logical sense. He felt like he needed her to fill the emptiness he now felt, an emptiness that he hadn't realized was there until he had allowed himself to get this close to her, to feel every part of her, to allow his desire to build until he could hardly stand it...

"Okay," he said as he steadied himself above her, his lips brushing her cheek as he spoke. "Ready?"

"Mmmm," Hermione moaned, nodding and opening her eyes to stare up into his. He nodded in return and before he could think too much about what he was doing, he pressed himself all the way down onto her, feeling her warmth completely surround him.

It was pleasure like he had never imagined. He couldn't even make a sound. All normal functions were completely immobilized. He was so overwhelmed by the sensations he was feeling that he didn't notice immediately that Hermione had clamped her eyes tightly shut and was biting her lip.

"Ow... Ron!" Hermione groaned. Ron considering moving out of her the moment he heard her cry, but he wasn't sure if it would hurt even more for him to move so suddenly.

"Hermione! What should I be doing? Is this hurting you?" he asked quickly.

"_Ohh_... it did... but..." Hermione's eyes remained tightly shut but her mouth parted and she leaned her head back and Ron had the impression that she was squeezing her eyes together _now _out of pleasure, not pain.

"Better?" he asked, trying desperately to hold onto the last remaining threads of control that he could feel slipping quickly away from him...

"_Ohh, so, so good_..." Hermione moaned. "_Ron_..." She opened her eyes at the exact moment that his name passed through her lips and he felt another wave of ecstasy shiver through his body. He was trying so desperately to hold on for her that his forehead was beginning to sweat.

He moved up slightly, a bit scared of hurting her again when he pushed back further into her, but this time, she lifted her hips up to meet his and threw her head back again from pleasure.

It was so easy to slide into her, though she was tight against him. And he just _had _to reach down to feel her as he pulled up and back down again. His fingers moved down between her legs and he gasped when he realized just how wet she was.

"_Ohhhh... hell..._" Ron breathed, and he felt her body shiver furiously at his touch, his fingers lightly pinching her skin.

It was far too much, and with one more deep breath, he was able to move slightly out of her and back again before feeling a rumble through his body that began somewhere deep inside of him and radiated out to every bit of him, all the way to his toes. He held his weight very slightly off of her on violently shaking arms, his lips crushing hers as she moaned into his mouth, her body quaking slightly underneath him.

Electricity seemed to crack between them, and then finally, feeling nearly dead from exhaustion, he rolled slightly off her, keeping her warm body against his as he rested on the mound of tangled sheets and blankets on his back.

Hermione squeezed his body and shivered, letting out a shaky sigh.

"Alright?" Ron asked in a strangled whisper.

"Oh, much more than alright," Hermione sighed back.

Ron felt himself shaking slightly, the combination of nerves and the remnants of adrenaline causing him to feel lightheaded as he tried to stop from laughing. But it was no use. He began to chuckle and it turned rapidly into an attempt to suppress a wave of intense laughter that seemed to come straight from his chest.

But Hermione was laughing too before he knew it, her body shaking against with a fit of giggles.

He squeezed her, laughing into her hair until he managed to calm down enough to speak.

"Best night of my life doesn't really cover it," Ron said finally.

"I know, me too," Hermione said through more giggles.

"How am I going to survive between now and the next time?" Ron asked, shaking his head slightly.

"I have no idea..." Hermione said as she leaned up to look into his eyes, her chin resting lightly on his chest.

They remained staring at one another, grinning foolishly at each other but not caring in the least... but slowly, Ron's smile began to fade as reality started to set in. They were at school. In the dungeons. And it was surely close to curfew, even for Prefects...

Ron didn't want to be the one to say it, but Hermione could read his expression and easily determine what was on his mind... Her own face fell into a depressed stare and her heart beat faster as she realized that it was over, that they had to get up now and face their real lives, the lives that included secrecy and stolen looks across the Common Room...

"We have to go," Hermione whispered, her eyes filling with tears.

"I know," Ron said. "Hermione," he continued when he saw how close she was to crying, "I promise you, when we get through with school, we're going to figure something out. We're going to make this work so we don't have to sneak around to see each other, okay?"

"How?" Hermione asked, looking so hopelessly into his eyes.

"I don't know," Ron admitted, "but I swear to you, I'm going to figure this out. Please, don't worry..."

Hermione nodded against his chest. He gently stroked her hair, letting his fingers tangle a bit into her curls. And finally, knowing what they had to face, Hermione moved away from him and sat up. She stood and Ron barely had time to look up and watch her beautiful body moving gracefully towards her clothes before she was dressing. He sighed and pulled himself out of the nest they had been lying in to put on his own clothes.

When they had finished dressing, Ron reached into his robe pocket for his watch. His eyes widened.

"What is it?" Hermione asked, her voice trembling with fear.

"We have five minutes to get back to the tower..."

"We'll never make it!" Hermione exclaimed, her eyes wide.

"It's okay," Ron said, despite the fact that he was just as afraid as she sounded.

They had already cut it quite close on multiple occasions before. He wasn't even sure what would happen if they were discovered... but he rationalized that they _were _Prefects, despite what they had _really _been doing wandering about the castle.

Ron gestured towards the blankets.

"What about these?" he asked. But Hermione was way ahead of him. Her wand was already in her hand.

With a flick, the pile vanished.

"Lumos," Hermione said, and her wand tip lit. She then leaned down and blew out the candles nearby. "Let's go," she said as Ron lit his own wand.

"Lead the way," Ron said. "I'll get us lost for sure..."

So Hermione lead them through the corridors silently. Ron felt a huge pang of loss as they rounded the first corner, the door to the room where they had just been together disappearing behind them.

"If we're found," Ron whispered, "we got lost. My fault."

Hermione nodded but said nothing as they moved very quickly through the corridors, further up and out of the dungeons. When they finally came to the first corridor with windows, Ron glanced at his watch again. It was already three minutes after midnight, but he chose not to inform Hermione of this. She hadn't seen him glance at his watch.

The rest of the journey back up to Gryffindor tower was made in silence, both for fear of being caught and out of depression at having to return to their lives at all. It had been an escape, a way to completely forget their reality. And now to have everything crash down around them was nearly unbearable. The thought of returning to class in the morning and acting as if nothing had happened, actually having to act like platonic friends at best, and really to put on the show that they had gotten so used to, the one that required them to completely ignore each other outwardly so as not to rouse even the slightest hint of suspicion in their classmates... It was unthinkable now that they had just experienced the exact opposite, love so heavy and strong that it crushed you, but you didn't care because it felt so wonderful to be consumed...

Hermione whispered the password and Ron looked up, his mind so far away that he hadn't realized they had even reached the tower. He stepped through the Portrait hole after Hermione and she started to head towards her dormitory.

"Hermione," he called after her, afraid that she was going to leave him without saying goodnight...

But she didn't turn to face him, just stopped in her tracks. So he reached for her shoulder and gently turned her around to face him. That was when he realized how much she had been crying, silently sobbing next to him as they had been rushing back to Gryffindor tower...

His face scrunched up as he looked down at her. He felt his concern for her overtake him as he cupped her face in his hands.

"Are you crying because we have to separate... or because you regret it?" he asked.

"Of course I don't regret it. I just can't stand the thought of my cold, empty bed without you, Ron," Hermione sobbed. "And it'll never stop."

"Don't say that," Ron said.

"I don't want it to be true. I don't want to be so pessimistic, but the reality is that I'm married to Harry, not you."

Ron felt like he had just had a bucket of ice water dumped over his head.

"Stop it," Ron said, terrified at the direction of their conversation...

"What's going to change, Ron?!" Hermione cried, trying to keep her voice down. "What's really going to ever change? I'm going to wake up tomorrow and still be living in this same nightmare."

Ron stepped back from her, looking desperately around the room as if something miraculous could somehow jump forth from the walls and save them...

"The Room of Requirement," he said under his breath.

"What?" Hermione asked, her voice cracking.

"The Room of Requirement," Ron said as he turned back towards her. "We can use it to meet from now on. It will be a lot safer. We won't be so worried about getting caught. And... maybe we can even stay the night there some time as long as we get down there before curfew in case someone sees us."

Hermione blinked up at Ron, torn between the tears that were hovering in her eyes about to spill over and the prospect of some small glimmer of hope to get them through another night...

"I know that's not a solution," Ron said, sighing. "But it's something."

Hermione nodded finally.

"We can do this," he said firmly. "It'll be okay."

She nodded again and wiped at her eyes.

"I'm sorry, Ron," she said as she tried to smile up at him. "Tonight... _was _the best night of my life... like you said. I can't even explain..." She trailed off, blushing.

"I know," Ron said, nodding.

"I'm not giving up. I never will," she said firmly.

"Good," Ron replied, smiling now.

"We should get to bed."

"Okay." Ron glanced up at the landings to the dormitories above, checking to be sure no one was there. When he saw that the coast was clear, he led Hermione into a shadowy corner and pulled her against him in a tight hug that she returned just as enthusiastically. "I love you," he whispered into her hair.

"I love you too," she whispered against his chest. She pulled back from him and smiled up at him, her eyes bloodshot.

"Goodnight, love," Ron said, his lips curling into a gentle smile. Hermione's cheeks reddened and she grinned, delighted, up at him. "Like that?" he asked her.

"You've never called me that before," she whispered.

"Reckon I haven't. Good time to start though, right?" He tilted his head to the side and grinned lopsidedly at her.

"Perfect time," she laughed. They lingered in the shadows, staring and smiling at each other for a few moments before Hermione broke away again.

"Goodnight, Ron," she whispered as she stood up on her tip toes to kiss him softly on the lips.

When she pulled back, his eyes opened lazily to follow her as she moved out of the shadows and towards the staircase that led up to her dormitory. On the third step, she glanced back at him over her shoulder, a sad smile across her face, her cheeks still flushed. He smiled back and she turned, disappearing much too quickly from his view.

Closing his eyes, Ron leaned against the dark wall behind him feeling more defeated and crushed than he would dare let on in front of Hermione. He knew that she deserved so much more than this. And knowing how happy he made her, not necessarily understanding it but knowing it when he looked into her eyes, when she kissed him, when she cried over each one of their separations... it only made him feel worse, more trapped, more tangled. He wasn't falling any deeper into the black hole he had created. He had already fallen as far as he could go. Now he just had to figure out how to crawl back out again, step by step, day by day, no matter what it took...


	5. Envy, Part 1

_**A/N: WARNING!!** Okay, guys. I made another smutty-ish, **M-rated** chapter. Oops?? *grins sheepishly* Couldn't help it. They needed it :) So I hope you enjoy it! But just know that as usual, you can skip and read the next one without missing too much plot... unless that part turns out smutty too... and I guess you never know with me... ah, what can you do? Oh, and apologizes in advance if there are any typos in here. I wrote this one kind of fast and wanted to post it today because I'll be quite busy for the remainder of the week and may not be able to update again for a bit :( __On we go... _

**Chapter 5 – Envy (Part 1)**  
**  
One Month Later**

Ron was lying on his bed in his dormitory, listening to Harry scribbling something down on a piece of parchment from where he sat in his own bed to Ron's right. It had been a month already since the dungeon, and every day Ron felt more and more desperate to figure out a solution to his relationship with Hermione. They had been able to schedule their rounds together once a week since that night but had nearly been caught the first time on their way down to try the Room of Requirement, so they had ended up finishing their patrol and going back to Gryffindor tower at a run. Since then, Hermione had been too afraid to try again and had insisted that they even completely _skip _the snogging part of their rounds the following week... Ron hadn't slept well that night.

And even though the previous night had been great (Hermione had pulled Ron into a broom closet and spent a good fifteen minutes pinning him against the wall), Ron could see the stress in Hermione's eyes when he'd catch her gaze over his breakfast or when he'd watch her sadly head down to the library alone, something he hadn't remembered ever seeing her do before... feeling _sad _about needing to use the library.

"Ron," Harry called, and Ron reluctantly focused on Harry and let his problems dissolve into the background for a moment.

"Hm?"

"Did you catch what the Prophet said this morning about those Muggle-borns?" Harry asked.

Ron sat up quickly, now extremely interested in the conversation.

"What do you mean?" he asked, leaning on his elbow to look over at Harry.

"You know, the ones that were caught trying to leave England," Harry continued. "We read about it last week."

"Yeah, I remember, but what happened to them?" Ron asked, his voice raising, slightly panicked.

Harry shook his head, disgusted.

"It was a tiny little paragraph in the very back of this morning's Prophet. They were tried, sentenced... and now it seems they'll be killed if they can't prove any magical blood ties."

"Bastards," Ron spat, looking furious. "If it had been Hermione..." but he trailed off, rage overtaking his ability to speak.

"Yeah," Harry said simply, understanding.

"This is bullshit! We need to be doing something!" Ron sat the rest of the way up in his bed, his face red.

"Ron, we talked about this. We can do a lot more from here than-"

"Yeah, I know. It looks less suspicious with us back here at school, blah blah..."

"I thought you agreed with me and Hermione about-"

"I did!" Ron shouted, his eyes narrowed slightly. "But Merlin, Harry, we have to put a stop to this! No one else is doing a damn thing about it!"

"I know," Harry agreed, "but the best way to help now is to focus on stopping Voldemort..."

"Yeah," Ron said sarcastically, "now that things are this effed up it's all just spinning down the drain..."

Harry said nothing, just gave Ron a desperate look.

"They've taken over everything, and it just seems like hardly anyone is really noticing!" Ron continued, bewildered. "It's mental! You'd think once the Ministry starts making decrees about keeping bloodlines pure and segregating half-bloods and Muggle-borns that at least a few decent wizards would cotton on and protest."

"I think they do realize, Ron," Harry said, "at least the decent ones, like you said. But they're just too scared. Everything happened so fast. You know how quickly things started to go to hell after we heard the first rumors. There wasn't any time."

"Dad lost his job and the next day the Prophet declares Muggle-borns inferior and _'requests' _our cooperation in getting their 'dirty blood' out of the population..." Ron said with a snarl, agreeing with Harry.

"Right..." Harry said, nodding. "There was nothing we could do."

"It's really astounding how bad things have gotten in such a short time!" Ron continued. "It's all so quiet too now that the Death Eaters and their scumbag slaves have control of the Prophet. Nobody _really _knows what's going on."

"And they won't," Harry said, "until Voldemort's followers are forced to focus on stopping _us _from ending it all instead of continuing to make rules and laws so complex that everyone is too confused and busy trying to comply to have time to fight it."

Ron bit his lip, thinking.

"What?" Harry asked.

"I was just wondering..." Ron began, "I know that marriages are for life but..." He stopped and shook his head. "Nevermind."

"What are you thinking?" Harry asked. "That because of the circumstances of me and Hermione's marriage that it'll be dropped or allowed to be reversed when this is all over?"

"If it ever ends..." Ron mumbled in a defeated tone.

"Of course it'll end," Harry said firmly, looking Ron straight in the eyes.

"But it doesn't matter. There's no such thing as..." Ron searched for the word... "you know, what they call it when Muggles end a marriage..."

"Divorce?" Harry asked.

"Yeah, that's it," Ron said.

"But this is extreme, Ron," Harry countered. "What we've been forced to do is completely disgusting and once things are back in order..."

"But that could take our whole lifetime!" Ron said. "You-Know-Who's followers are damn crafty creating all these laws within such a short time. It's getting too complicated to undo. And even if we win and the Ministry tries to set it all right again, it'll take _forever_ to untangle all the knots."

"You and Hermione are both so depressing sometimes," Harry said, sighing.

"What?" Ron asked, his ears perking up at the sound of Hermione's name. "What did she say?"

"It's just the constant negativity," Harry said. "It's like you've both lost the ability to imagine anything good in the end."

Harry looked down and Ron said nothing, just stared out the window next to Harry's bed. It was true. Ron had been awfully negative recently. He wasn't even totally sure why. His time with Hermione was great. They hardly ever fought. And if it wasn't for the fact that they had to see each other in secret, they would be perfectly happy, he was sure. And it wasn't like he hadn't known what he was getting into from the start. The night he had told her he wanted to be with her, he had also told her that it didn't matter to him that they could never _really _be together, never let anyone find out about their relationship, because in the end, it was worlds better to be with her at all then to have nothing.

But it _did _matter. It mattered a whole lot that as hard as he tried, he could see no light ahead of them. They'd always have to resort to sneaking around and being constantly fearful of someone finding out. Thinking it through over and over again was like rehearsing a badly planned out play. It just made him feel worse about it all, spinning wheels that never moved an inch forward.

"Sorry," Ron mumbled after a long silence, and Harry looked up at him again. "It's not easy doing this, but it's what I signed up for, isn't it. I reckon I didn't know how hard this would be."

Harry looked nervous suddenly and Ron furrowed his eyebrows.

"What?" Ron asked.

"You aren't planning to..."

"I'm not saying it's not worth doing. Not at all. It's just..." Ron sighed. "I just see how it's affecting Hermione and it's depressing. I don't want to make her feel that way."

Harry nodded.

"But there's no solution," Ron continued. "We'll just keep fighting and hope that we win and..." Ron shrugged.

"Yeah," Harry said, trying to smile.

"Harry?" Ron started after a moment.

"Yeah?"

Ron's eyes darted around nervously for a moment. He wanted so badly to talk to Harry about Hermione because it wasn't like he was able to get close to her when anyone else was around. He wanted to hear what Harry really thought Hermione was feeling about everything, and this was his chance.

"Do you think-"

But the dormitory door opened and Ron jumped. Fortunately, Seamus and Dean were too engrossed in their own conversation to notice Ron and Harry's startled looks.

"-if she's got it all figured out," Seamus was saying with a smirk.

"Not likely," Dean replied, flopping down onto his bed. "You're a smart bloke."

Seamus nodded proudly.

"Right I am."

"She should feel lucky," Dean concluded, grinning as Seamus leaned back into his own bed. Dean turned towards Harry and Ron finally. "What are you up to, mates?"

"Studying for Potions," Harry groaned, holding up a large stack of parchment and a thick book. Dean grimaced.

"Damn, I was hoping that little problem would just evaporate..."

"Me too, but when I came up here, these notes were still here," Harry said, narrowing his eyes at the notes. "And if anything, I'm pretty sure they multiplied."

"Hermione's not helping you two out this time?" Seamus asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Nah, she's got Runes to study for," Harry said as Ron leaned back into his bed the rest of the way at the mention of Hermione's name. Seamus glanced over at Ron.

"You alright, mate?" he asked.

"Yeah, tired," Ron said dismissively.

"Oh, that reminds me," Seamus continued, looking slightly sorry for having to break the news to Ron... "Hermione-" Ron sat up "-was in the Common Room. She asked me to tell you that Justin can't make rounds with her tonight, something about a flu, and would you 'be so kind' as to take his shift?" Seamus gave Ron a sympathetic shrug.

Ron moved a little too quickly to climb out of bed and had to stop himself at the last moment from jumping for joy...

"Glad I'm not a Prefect," said Dean.

"That's fine," Ron said quickly. "I'll go talk to her..." He grabbed his robe off the back of his chair and headed for the door. He yanked the door open and closed it swiftly behind him, but at the last moment he caught Seamus saying "what's gotten into him?" in an undertone.

He took the stairs two at a time, stopping just before rounding the last curve to rearrange his face from ecstatic to less than thrilled...

Hermione sat by herself with her back towards him at a table across the room. She was dabbing her quill in some ink while simultaneously speed reading the book next to her, her finger traveling quickly underneath the words as she read them. Ron cleared his throat as he approached the table and she jumped slightly and turned around.

"Ron," she said with a smile that she quickly wiped away when she remembered that she had no logical reason, according to the others in the room, to be smiling so widely at Ron's arrival. She met his eyes however, and his heartbeat quickened.

"I heard you needed me?" he asked, raising an eyebrow very slightly, fighting back the grin that he felt coming on.

"Well, yes," Hermione said, breaking eye contact before she lost control. She slid her parchment into her book to mark her place and closed the cover while she spoke... "Justin's sick. Can you take his shift tonight with me?"

"Yep," Ron said with a small smile, but when Hermione looked up at him, he promptly frowned at her as if he was only taking the shift begrudgingly...

"Right, so you're ready to go?" she asked, noting that his robe was slung over his forearm.

"Ready."

Hermione nodded, screwed the lid back onto her ink bottle, and packed everything into her school bag.

"Be right back," she said, brushing past him towards the girls' dormitories.

Ron's eyelids fluttered when she briefly bumped into him, but he managed to keep them open, forcing himself to remain outwardly unaffected. He sat immediately in her vacated seat and waited impatiently for her to come back down from the dormitory. When he heard footsteps a moment later, his eyes flicked over to the girls' staircase, but it was Harry who eventually emerged from the boys' side. He glanced around the room, spotted Ron, and casually moved towards him, though the look on his face was purposeful. Harry sat in the empty chair to Ron's left and glanced around the room at the other students, clearly checking to be sure no one was watching.

"What's going on?" Ron whispered through his teeth.

"Reach under the table," Harry instructed. Ron stared at Harry, confused. "Just do it," Harry whispered quickly.

Ron reached towards Harry and almost immediately felt something silky, almost too light to be real. His eyes widened with recognition.

"Really?" he asked, awestruck, staring at Harry.

"Take it. Quick," Harry hissed.

Ron shoved his left arm under the table with his right so his robe pocket was concealed as he slipped the balled up cloak into it...

"Ron?" came Hermione's voice from across the room. Ron quickly adjusted his robe on his arm and stood, turning to face Hermione. "Ready to go?" she asked.

"Yep," Ron said with a glance back over his shoulder at Harry. Harry smiled at him and nodded and Ron nodded back, hoping that Harry understood just how thankful he was for what Harry had done...

As usual, Ron and Hermione walked the first few corridors in silence. It was part of their routine even though it didn't make a lot of sense. After ten, no one was really allowed to be in the corridors unless they wore a Prefect's badge.

"Thanks for doing this, Ron," Hermione said softly when they had reached the end of a corridor and had stopped, both facing forward, to wait for a staircase to move. Ron laughed.

"You really put me out," he said sarcastically. Hermione grinned but didn't look over at him yet.

"Well, I hope you had enough time to study for our Potions exam tomorrow..." she said a bit sternly. Ron laughed again but didn't answer her. She glanced over at him with raised eyebrows.

"I studied all afternoon, Hermione," Ron said, smiling at her. Her face fell marginally and she looked forward again as the staircase approached.

"That's where you were then," she stated mostly to herself as she stepped down onto the top stair. Ron followed her, moving quickly to keep up with her. As long as his legs were, she could really move down a flight of stairs.

"What does that mean?" he asked her.

"It means I was wondering where you were all afternoon and you just explained it," she said with a slight bitterness in her tone.

"Hermione," Ron continued as she sped ahead off the stairs. "Hermione," he called again as he caught up to her.

"What?" she asked exasperatedly as she began to glance inside classrooms automatically for curfew breakers.

"Did I do something?" Ron asked. "You're angry with me..."

"No, Ron," Hermione sighed. "I'm not. Let's just get this over with, shall we?"

"Over with?" Ron asked, raising his eyebrows in shock. "Why?"

"Ron, we have responsibilities right now. Let's just get to-"

"That's not what I'm talking about..." Ron trailed off.

"I know what you meant," Hermione said, facing him for a brief moment, her cheeks reddening. But she looked away quickly and continued to attend to her duties as Head Girl as if she was making rounds with any random Prefect...

"Hermione," Ron tried again a moment later. No reply. "Hermione."

She turned to face him again, her eyes narrowed.

"What, Ron?"

"Stop for just a second," he said.

"We've got..." she looked at her watch... "an hour and forty five minutes before Prefect curfew and a lot of work to do."

"Just tell me what's going on and we can get to it," Ron pleaded. Hermione sighed and crossed her arms over her chest, glaring up at Ron.

"I know that we're busy this year and I'm proud of you for studying hard," Hermione began, "but..." she paused, sighing again and looking away from Ron.

"What?"

"It's just strange seeing so little of each other I guess," Hermione admitted.

"That's what this is about?" Ron asked, stepping closer to her. "You know why I studied upstairs instead of with you and why I keep leaving the room when we're surrounded by people?"

Hermione looked down but said nothing.

"Because I can't risk doing something stupid," Ron said, "and when I'm with you, it's so bloody hard not to..." he lowered his voice and stepped closer... "not to grab you and... snog you." His ears turned a bit pink, but he didn't look away from Hermione when she met his eyes.

Hermione tried not to smile...

"Did you think I was trying to avoid you?" Ron paused and tilted his head thoughtfully. "Well, I guess I was in a way... but only because of how hard it is to be in the same room and have to ignore you."

Hermione nodded.

"Okay," she said, smiling obviously now. "I'm sorry. I wasn't really angry with you, just frustrated."

"Yeah," Ron said, giving her a half-smile. "Back to work?"

Hermione nodded.

"If we hurry, we can finish by eleven thirty..." she said, winking at him as she headed on down the corridor to the next classroom door.

"Hermione," Ron began as he ducked into the classroom across the hall from the one she was exiting a moment later.

"Hm?" she asked, following him into the classroom.

Ron was on the point of opening his mouth to tell her about Harry's little gift to them, but he realized at the last moment that it might be nice to surprise her with it so he shook his head.

"Forgot what I was going to say," he said, shrugging. Hermione shook her head incredulously before following him back out of the classroom.

* * *

At eleven twenty, Hermione was half-running down the last corridor, banging open doors with haste. Ron laughed as he copied her movements with the doors on the opposite side of the hall.

"Anyone breaking any rules?" he called out. He opened another classroom door and glanced inside. "No?" When there was no answer, he closed the door again. "Good," he said to no one. Hermione giggled as she ran to the next door on her side and slipped inside.

She returned seconds later.

"No one in there either?" Ron asked. She shook her head, still laughing. "Right. Race you to the last ones," Ron said, cocking his head towards the last two classroom doors down at the very end of the corridor. Hermione grinned deviously at him from her side of the hallway.

"You're on," she said and they both broke into a run at the same moment, skidding to a halt in front of their doors, Ron reaching his a fraction of a second before Hermione.

"Hey, any little prats in here?" Ron called as he darted around desks, ducking his head under them as he went. "How about here?" he asked as he banged open a closet door. "All clear..." he mumbled to himself with a smirk as he rushed back out of the classroom. Hermione's hand grabbed the edge of her door from the inside as she pulled herself through, panting slightly.

"Your legs are too long!" she complained as she watched Ron lean against the door frame casually. He shrugged.

"Still beat you," he informed her and she rolled her eyes. "You know what that means?" he asked, looking at his watch.

Hermione grinned.

"We beat our previous record. Done with thirty six minutes to spare!" He raised his hands triumphantly as he pushed away from the door frame.

"Fantastic," Hermione said, her eyes moving down to sweep over Ron's body quite obviously. He suppressed a groan.

"Okay," he said as he moved quickly across the corridor to stand inches away from her, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Room of Requirement?"

Hermione glanced up the corridor, biting her lip skeptically.

"I have a little surprise for you," Ron said, grinning as she looked back up at him.

"What?" she asked, curious.

"Come in here," Ron said, pulling her into the classroom they were standing in front of. He backed against the wall to the left of the door and reached into his robe pocket. As he pulled out Harry's invisibility cloak, Hermione gasped.

"Ron!" she hissed. "Did you steal it from Harry?!"

"Better," he said. "Harry _gave _it to me."

Hermione stared up at him, wide-eyed.

"Remember when you came down and he was sitting with me at the table?"

"Yes..." Hermione said, but it suddenly clicked and she gasped again. "He was giving you the cloak!"

"Yep," Ron nodded.

"This is..." Hermione laughed. "This is great! Why didn't I think to ask him for this a lot sooner?!"

"Dunno," Ron shrugged, "but I had the same thought after he gave it to me. I guess it would have been awkward to ask?"

Hermione nodded.

"So get under and we'll be on our way," Ron grinned. Hermione scooted closer to him without hesitation and he threw the cloak over their heads, checking to be sure their feet were concealed. "Let's go," he whispered, and they moved very close together out into the corridor, breathing as quietly as possible all the way to the Room of Requirement. "I'll open it," Ron whispered when they arrived and he thought hard as he passed by the spot where the room would appear... _We need a dark quiet room to be alone..._

After passing by the third time, they watched as the familiar door began to form out of the wall. The moment it had fully appeared, Ron reached for the handle and jerked it open, allowing Hermione to slip in quickly first. He followed her, sweeping the cloak in after him and shutting the door with a soft click. Ron remained staring at the door for a second longer as he pocketed the cloak again.

"Ron..." Hermione said in a soft, awe-filled voice. Ron turned around and followed Hermione's gaze into the large room before them. His eyebrows raised and his eyes widened. It couldn't have been more perfect. There was a darkness to it, dim light coming from two torches on either side of the door back into the corridor. It had a slight dungeon feeling to it somehow, but not in an unpleasant way. It was quite warm and there was a lit fireplace near a large black circular bed in a shadowy corner, covered in feather pillows. There was a small couch in front of the fire, tables and a few other random chairs scattered about the room. The floor was covered in a large, thick rug that looked comfortable enough to sleep on.

"Woah..." Ron said, his eyes roaming around the room for a second look.

"Did you imagine all this, Ron?" Hermione asked, her voice soft and mesmerized.

"Not really," Ron admitted. "I mean, I just sort of imagined..." his cheeks reddened... "being with you in the dungeon I guess..."

Hermione turned and grinned at him.

"This is perfect..."

"Yeah..." Ron agreed.

Ron watched Hermione walk over to the couch and take off her robe, laying it over the back of the couch. She rubbed her hands together as she moved closer to the fire. When she turned to look back at Ron over her shoulder, she caught him staring at her with a dreamy expression and she smiled softly, her cheeks flushing.

"You okay?" she asked in a very small voice.

"Yeah," Ron croaked before clearing his throat and shrugging at his unusable voice. Hermione grinned as he approached her slowly, removing his own robe and placing it over the couch next to hers.

Hermione took a deep, peaceful breath as she closed the space between her body and Ron's, wrapping her arms around his waist and tucking her head against his chest. He smiled as he lowered his head to rest on the top of hers, his arms moving to circle her small body.

"You're so tiny," Ron commented randomly. Hermione pulled back enough to look up at him.

"What do you mean?" she asked with a laugh.

"Dunno," Ron said, his ears reddening. "You're so much smaller than me."

"Nice observation," Hermione smirked.

"Funny," Ron said sarcastically. "It's just interesting," he added, still thinking about Hermione's size. She moved back from him a bit more, but kept her arms around him.

"Is it going to be a problem for you?" she asked jokingly, raising an eyebrow. Ron chuckled.

"No, it's brilliant," he said, moving his hands down to rest on her hips.

He rubbed his thumbs along her hip bones in the front, his fingertips still able to reach all the way around the side of her waist. Hermione blushed as she stared up into his eyes.

"I've been thinking about coming here pretty much every night since the first time," Ron admitted after a moment.

"I'm sorry," Hermione replied, looking a bit guilty.

"Why?" Ron asked, furrowing his eyebrows. "It's not your fault we almost got caught before we could make it last time."

"No," Hermione began, "but we could have tried it again."

"Well," Ron said, "doesn't matter now we've got the cloak." He grinned at her and she smiled back, shaking her head.

Ron bent down just far enough to kiss Hermione softly on the nose and when he pulled back, he saw that her eyes were closed.

"You okay?" he asked. She nodded.

"That felt... nice," she said as she slowly opened her eyes again.

"Yeah?" Ron bent down and kissed her nose again, just as softly. Then he moved slightly to the right and kissed her at the point where her nose met her cheek, his lips feather light on her skin. As he moved further to kiss her cheek, he felt her eyelashes flutter against his own cheek. His next move was up to her closed eye where he kissed the lid very softly.

"Ron..." Hermione whispered. "Feels..." She stopped as he moved back and she opened her eyes again.

"What?" Ron asked, curious.

"Amazing," Hermione finished. "You'll see," she added as she placed her hands on the sides of his face and pulled his head down.

She kissed the tip of his nose very gently and he stifled a laugh. She narrowed her eyes at him and pulled back to glare at him.

"What?" she demanded.

"No, nothing, it's good," he said. "Keep going."

She looked skeptical, but moved her lips to his cheek. But the moment her lips had touched his skin, she felt him stifling more laughter and she pulled abruptly back.

"What's so funny?" she asked, glaring a hole through his closed eyelids.

His eyes opened and he smiled at her, looking guilty but happy.

"Hermione," he began, "all this proves is that I'm way more ticklish than you are."

Hermione raised her eyebrows at him for a moment and he was sure she was planning her next retort, but then suddenly, her slightly annoyed expression turned devious.

"Looks like I'll have to try a different approach..." she said, pulling his hand roughly as she backed towards a table that was positioned against the wall between the bed and the fireplace.

"And what exactly-" Ron began, but he was cut off by Hermione grabbing his loosened tie and yanking his head down to hers, crushing his lips with her own. He felt her backing up a bit further and he had to force his brain to tell his legs to move one in front of the other to stay with her.

But then suddenly, it was as if she had grown a bit taller. He opened his eyes as they separated for a breath, realizing at once that Hermione was now sitting on the little table and was very purposefully sliding her legs apart, pulling him closer. Her uniform skirt was now very bunched up, most of her thighs now visible as her legs stretched apart.

"This doesn't tickle," Ron said and Hermione burst out laughing. He crushed her lips again instantly, silencing her giggles. His hands moved up her thighs, feeling smooth skin all the way up. He stopped just before his hands reached the very tops of her legs, his heart pounding as hard as it ever had. He felt her tongue push against his and his eyes squeezed more tightly shut from pleasure. He felt her arms moving around him and her legs squeezing his. Her hands moved up his back, creating a wave of shivers in their wake. Pushing her against the wall behind the table, he finally unattached their lips and leaned down to kiss her neck, her nails now digging into his back through his shirt.

When his lips reached the collar of her shirt, Ron hesitated for a moment, but he quickly realized that Hermione's hands were moving back around to unbutton _his _shirt. He looked into her eyes, panting slightly and feeling her hot, quick breath fill his own mouth as he stood with his lips still parted, mesmerized. He let his forehead fall against hers, one hand now resting on her shoulder, his thumb rubbing her collarbone, moving close to her top button. She nodded, as if reading his mind, answering the question he was trying to ask with his eyes, and Ron smiled as he began to work on the buttons of her shirt too, their heads still together.

When Ron's shaking hands finally reached the halfway point, his eyes flicked down to take in her newly exposed chest, focusing for a moment on the ring where it hung between her breasts. A small smile spread across his face as he felt his heart skip a beat seeing his ring against her bare skin. Her breasts were still covered on each side by the crisp white polyester of her shirt, but in the middle, he had a clear view of the smooth path of pale white skin from her neck to just below her bra clasp. He instantly found a single freckle slightly to the left of center, just past where her right breast began to slope away from her chest. He grinned, his eyes on the freckle.

"What?" Hermione asked breathlessly, pausing where she was still unbuttoning Ron's shirt near the bottom.

"I knew that would be there," he said, touching the freckle with his index finger. "Remembered."

"Really?" Hermione asked, glancing down to where Ron's finger rested lightly against her skin. "But it was so dark before and we weren't there for long..."

"I memorized everything," he admitted, his cheeks reddening but his eyes moving up to meet hers. "And it's pretty much all I've thought of every night since the dungeon."

"Ron..." Hermione breathed, looking awestruck and dazed. Her eyes moistened as Ron broke eye contact, blushing deeper. But Ron could feel Hermione's chest heaving as she began to breathe more heavily again, desire returning to her eyes. His finger moved down to join his other hand as they worked to continue unbuttoning her shirt. Her eyes shut blissfully and he felt his stomach jump at the sight. Her own small hands unbuttoned the last of his buttons and slid the shirt open the rest of the way. He had to stop unbuttoning Hermione's shirt to pull his arms out of his own, and by the time the shirt was on the floor behind him, Hermione hands were traveling up underneath his thin t-shirt, her cool palms sliding up his hot skin. He reached for the bottom hem of his undershirt and pulled it quickly over his head, tossing it to the floor.

Hermione looked down instantly, her eyes raking hungrily over his pale, freckle and ginger hair covered chest, pausing to stare for a moment at the ring that hung from the thin gold chain around his neck, identical to her own, but larger... further down to his belly button and the trail of ginger hair there that disappeared into his trousers. Her legs squeezed his involuntarily which caused his trousers to pull down slightly, and, noticing what she had caused to happen, Hermione's eyes widened, her gaze locked on a spot just above the top button of Ron's trousers.

Ron looked down, curious as to what she was staring at. And then he noticed that his trousers were now so low that she could see a lot more ginger hairs there than usual. He felt the temperature in the room increase dramatically.

They moved together at the exact same moment, their mouths opening and greedily crashing against each other, Hermione's shirt now completely open, Ron's hands traveling over large amounts of her skin very quickly, moving up over her lace bra. _Lace_...

Ron pulled his mouth away from Hermione's to look down where his fingers rested. Her chest heaved with his breath and Ron blinked, his eyes widening, his heart racing, as he saw what was before him... Hermione was wearing a black lace bra... and it barely covered everything.

"What's... this?" Ron breathed, sliding his hand up a bit further as Hermione hooked her fingers into the belt loops of his trousers.

"Dunno," Hermione mumbled as she tugged on Ron's trousers, her face completely red. He glanced up and noticed that she was avoiding his eyes, still breathing heavily through her mouth. He shook his head, realizing how embarrassed she was...

"It's probably one of the hottest things I've ever seen..." he mumbled back, looking down at her again. He felt her eyes on him instantly, searching his face...

"Really?" Hermione asked timidly, still out of breath.

"Yeah. Bloody hell..." Ron closed his eyes for a moment from near agonizing pleasure, but when he opened his eyes again, Hermione was grinning and moving closer for another kiss that he quickly accepted.

As Ron pushed Hermione's shirt off her shoulders, she removed her hands from his back to help him almost desperately, pulling her arms through the sleeves and shoving the material to the floor without a second thought. His tongue slid between her lips and she moaned deeply, pulling on the back of his tie to force him closer, and he obliged with excitement, feeling one of her hands move to undo his belt as he slid both arms around her waist, bending his elbows so his forearms and hands could lie flat up her back, almost completely covering her skin there with his own.

"Ron..." she whispered into his mouth as she pulled back slightly. "Ron..."

"Mmm?"

She pushed him very gently away from her and he gave her a puzzled expression as she pointed to her robe where it was draped over the couch.

"What?" Ron asked gently, looking thoroughly dazed and confused.

"Potion..." Hermione said. Ron's eyes widened slightly with recognition and without a second thought, he darted over to the robe and reached into the pockets for the potion. Hermione giggled as he practically sprinted back over to her with the vial.

"Was wondering if you happened to have this with you..." Ron mumbled as Hermione downed the contents in one and tossed the vial to the rug.

Blushing madly, Hermione reached up under her skirt and began to pull something down... As she wiggled on top of the table, Ron's eyes widened to perfect circles.

"Y-you, uh..." He cleared his throat. Hermione tossed her knickers to the floor. She parted her legs slightly, her cheeks tinged with deep scarlet. Ron was sure he wouldn't be able to keep standing like this. His legs had seemingly turned to pudding... but Hermione reached for him and he stepped between her legs again, his heart pounding in his throat.

His chest moving rapidly with each breath, he slid his hands up her sides, dipping his fingers a bit under the edge of her bra when he reached it. His eyes darted to what looked like a clasp in the front, something he had noticed when he had first begun to unbutton Hermione's shirt...

"Go on..." Hermione whispered and Ron nodded, his ears and cheeks very red and warm. He crashed his lips down on hers again as his hands moved around to the clasp, trying shakily to figure out how to undo it. But he soon felt a pair of very cool hands helping him out, and with a very slight pop, he felt new skin under his fingers where the clasp had just been. The bra soon dropped to the floor to join Hermione's shirt. Opening his eyes, Ron's brain was instantly overwhelmed by the sight of Hermione's bare chest, something he had only had the pleasure of seeing once before.

"Fucking beautiful..." he mumbled, awestruck. His hands moved up her bare skin, covering her. She pushed her body against him and twisted her legs around his waist at the same time, her hands sliding between their bodies to push down the zipper of his trousers and move them and his boxers completely out of the way...

"Ron..." she groaned, her lips full and wet from kissing and her legs tightening even more, pulling him hard against her. It was all Ron needed to know it was okay, that she wanted him as much as he wanted her.

"Love you..." he mumbled against her lips as he crushed her open mouth again with his at the exact same moment that he pressed her body fully against the wall, easily moving into her. They both let out near identical sounds somewhere between moans and shouts. Their lips parted just long enough for Ron to ask "good?" Hermione's furious nod against his forehead was a very clear confirmation. He sucked her bottom lip into his mouth, his tongue running smoothly along it. He felt her shaking, her hands moving up his back, her nails grazing his skin again.

He moved away and closer in one quick moment, and he felt her shiver, her hot and sweaty skin pressed tightly to his. Moving slightly faster than the last time, he knew that it wouldn't last long, but he couldn't bring himself to slow down or to even pause for a moment. He was completely lost in the sensations he was experiencing and in the fact that the person here with him was the only person who had ever entered his dreams this way, the only person he'd ever imagined being with, ever fantasized about. And he loved her. He loved her so much it almost killed him. And he knew that she loved him. It was absurd and illogical and totally _mental_... but she did. He knew it. And he felt it.

He was losing control quickly and knew it would soon be over. And suddenly he heard an incredible sound, something he had only barely been able to experience the first time... It was like a whispered squeal somewhere in the back of Hermione's throat. And the moment he heard it, it was no use even trying to hold on any longer. Shaking, his hands now on either side of Hermione's face, he separated their lips to breathe, his eyes shooting open to stare into hers. It was alarming and so perfectly incredible to find her staring so passionately back into his own eyes the moment he opened them...

She shivered against him as the last bit of energy he had in him escaped. He saw hers leave too as her eyes went from desire filled and alert to happily satisfied. After a long moment, they both broke into smiles, their eyes still locked and foreheads almost touching.

Slowly, Ron lowered his hands from Hermione's face, moving his arm around her back to hold her against him.

"Have to lie down..." Ron muttered and Hermione giggled, nodding in agreement.

He scooped her up and she squealed, surprised with his sudden strength as he turned with her in his arms and lowered her to the mattress directly to their right. Once he had let her go, he pulled his legs out of his trousers which now lay in a heap at his feet. Blushing, he adjusted his boxers and climbed into the bed as Hermione scooted over to give him space, her skirt rumpled up at her waist. She attempted to adjust it as Ron settled onto the pillow next to her, turning onto his side. She turned too and took his hand, becoming more aware by the second of her exposed chest and the fact that there was nothing in the vicinity to cover herself with other than the hot blanket underneath them...

Hermione moved their hands up to rest between their heads on the pillow so they were sleepily staring at each other out of just one eye, the eye that could see over their intertwined hands. Ron grinned broadly at her and she couldn't help but grin back, like she had been infected by his disease...

"Didn't expect that..." Ron laughed.

"Me either," Hermione said, looking slightly scandalized by her own actions. Ron's grin fell marginally.

"But it was o-"

"More than okay," Hermione cut him off, grinning even wider.

"You have no idea what you do to me," Ron sighed, looking a bit overwhelmed.

"_You _have no idea what you do to _me_," Hermione countered, blinking sleepily at Ron as he rubbed his thumb over her knuckles.

"Glad we're on the same page," Ron smirked, feeling sleep tugging at him harder by the second.

"Mmm..." Hermione murmured, scooting closer so her legs were twisted together with Ron's. His eyes blinked once more before shutting completely, and the moment he allowed his body and mind to fully relax, there was no hope of returning to life. It felt much too good right here with Hermione, warm and comforted, forgetting that there was anything in the world to care about, to worry about... almost forgetting that anyone else existed at all, exactly what Ron wanted, what he knew they needed.

He'd worry later. But for now, he would hold onto what he had, because if he stopped to think about it, he would lose it, it would slip away... and he had no idea how much time they really had left.


	6. Envy, Part 2

**Chapter 6 - Envy, Part 2**

Darkness. A deep breath.

Ron opened his eyes. Hermione's flushed face was glowing in the dim fire light. Her breathing was soft and gentle and Ron couldn't help but smile. He had never seen her look so peaceful.

He shivered slightly, realizing how naked he was. The tie that was still loosely around his neck was caught between his side and the mattress so he ripped it out from under his body and pulled it off over his head, tossing it to the floor behind him. He was wearing nothing else besides his boxers...

He pondered the fact that he didn't feel at all embarrassed. Maybe it was the half naked girl asleep beside him that distracted him from thinking too much about his own appearance... He really didn't want to stare. But it was absolutely impossible once his eyes passed over her naked chest.

He shivered again, but not from the cold this time.

A moment later, she shifted against the mattress almost imperceptibly, but Ron was studying her so carefully that he had no trouble noticing. A smile spread across his flushed face as he anticipated her awakening. Her eyes rolled behind her closed lids and he felt his pulse quicken. He was struck by how affected he was by her impending presence. It made him feel lightheaded and dizzy and totally out of control of his own life, but in a fantastic way.

"Mmm..." Hermione murmured as her eyes cracked open. She blinked, focused on Ron smiling over at her, and instantly began to blush and shiver simultaneously.

"Hey..." Ron said in a scratchy voice.

"Where..." Hermione leaned up very slightly to look over Ron's body at the room beyond.

"Room of Requirement," Ron said softly.

"Oh," Hermione said, lowering her head again. But her eyes suddenly widened. "Oh! Ron, what time is it?!"

Ron hadn't thought of that for some absurd reason. He frantically turned his watch band around so he could read the time. Relieved, he let out a breath.

"3:43am."

Hermione closed her eyes.

"Almost had a heart attack," Hermione admitted, laughing slightly.

"Me too," Ron agreed, moving around on the mattress, relaxing again.

"We really should head back soon though," Hermione added, moving her arms over her chest to cover herself. Ron looked down automatically at the motion but quickly looked back up, his ears burning.

He reached up and pulled down the blanket underneath his body, his torso twisting as he moved. Hermione's eyes seemed to glaze over and he caught her staring right at his heart. He looked down, thinking it might have been the chain around his neck that she was looking at, but the ring had somehow twisted around to his back and there was nothing in Hermione's line of vision besides his bare skin.

Looking slightly flustered, Hermione unglued her eyes from Ron's chest and began to work down the blanket on her side so they could slid under. Ron tried hard not to say anything about Hermione's behavior as he made himself comfortable under the thick black blanket next to her, but a grin spread across his face without his consent and Hermione raised her eyebrows questioningly.

"Caught you," Ron explained, grinning foolishly now.

"D-doing what?" Hermione asked, her eyes darting away from his. He knew she already knew... Ron shrugged.

"Staring."

"At what?" Hermione continued, daring to glare into Ron's eyes now, her cheeks scarlet.

"Want me to give you an example?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No!" Hermione said quickly, scooting closer to Ron to hide her chest from his view.

"So you _do _know what you were doing," Ron teased.

"Shut up, Ron!" Hermione shouted, trying to look annoyed. But Ron thought he could see a hint of amusement mixed with her obvious embarrassment. And as he grinned at her, he watched her expression reluctantly soften. But after no more than a few seconds, she sighed.

"Oh..." She looked apologetic and annoyed at the same time for whatever it was that she had just remembered.

"What?" Ron asked, curiously.

"Something sort of bad happened..."

Ron shifted and furrowed his eyebrows, concern rushing through his veins.

"What?" he asked a bit frantically.

"It's not the end of the world. We'll... be okay," Hermione said, biting her lip.

"What is it?" Ron demanded. Hermione sighed.

"Professor McGonagall told me after lunch, because I'm Head Girl," Hermione said by way of explaining why she received the privileged information she was about to impart to Ron.

Ron felt himself grow increasingly impatient as he waited for Hermione to finally get to the point...

"Basically," Hermione continued, "some representatives from the Ministry are coming in later this week."

"What the hell for?" Ron asked, narrowing his eyes.

"They're... basically spying on us," Hermione said, sighing again.

"Spying on us?" Ron repeated, still confused.

"They're coming to investigate, to check up on any students who were married over the summer. They're trying to... well, to uncover anything they can in case someone did... well, exactly what we did."

Ron blinked at Hermione.

"They want to prove that some of the marriages that took place happened solely to prevent a Muggleborn from being harmed."

"Well, obviously that happened," Ron scoffed. "It's their own damn fault."

"Yes," Hermione said patiently, "but the point is that if they can prove it or even if they just suspect that a marriage isn't based on anything other than defiance, which is really what we did, then they are going to try to render it invalid."

Ron gaped incredulously at Hermione.

"That's horse shit."

"Yeah," Hermione said, squirming slightly in the bed, "but it's happening and we have to be prepared."

"What can we do?" Ron asked, looking completely pissed off now.

"Well, I haven't discussed it with Harry yet," Hermione said slowly as if she was a bit scared to admit to what she had in mind, "but based on what Professor McGonagall said, I wouldn't doubt that these Ministry representatives are planning a full out investigation, probably to the extent of questioning students, friends of married couples. So..." Hermione paused and bit her lip again, "Harry and I will have to... act... a bit more like a real married couple for a while."

Ron felt his chest constrict and a wave of nausea pass through him.

"I know it's awful and I... I don't want to do it. _Not at all_," Hermione said, and Ron felt a little guilty for his obvious hatred of the idea as he watched Hermione sadly try to convince him that it would be alright, her expression so apologetic and kind.

He took a breath in and slowly let it out, committing to Hermione's safety no matter what. This was more important than his jealousy.

"Okay," Ron said slowly, nodding. "I know you have to do this."

"Ron..." Hermione started, but Ron placed a hand on the side of Hermione's face and gently moved his fingers over her skin, smoothing her hair back away from her cheek.

"Harry's going to feel bad enough as it is when you tell him you've got to do this. Don't let him think it's a problem for me," Ron said softly. "I'll get over it." But Ron's eyes widened slightly all of a sudden. He tried to conceal it from Hermione, still wanting to remain outwardly strong no matter how awful he was feeling inside. "You don't have to... _snog him_... do you?"

Hermione looked mildly disgusted at Ron's words and this somehow comforted him.

"No, definitely not," Hermione said, shaking her head against her pillow. "Holding hands in the corridors maybe, a little more time spent together... just to make sure no one here has any reason to doubt that we... love each other..."

"Yeah..." Ron trailed off, sickened anew by Hermione's words. But he repressed it, nodding again and taking another deep breath. Hermione scooted closer to him across the bed, her chest so close that Ron could feel her skin brushing the ends of his chest hairs. It tickled, but he didn't move. "I love you, Ron. Only you. Forever. So please don't..." Hermione stopped, choking up slightly, her eyes wet.

"Hey," Ron said, moving the quarter inch necessary to completely close the gap between their bodies. A shiver ran from his chest down to his toes as he felt her warm naked flesh against his own. Putting his overwhelming desire aside, he tried to refocus on what he had been trying to say, to comfort Hermione... "This isn't permanent. And Harry knows how much I love you. And... it's going to be a little disgusting to watch, but then we'll come back down here and... do what we did tonight... and..." Ron blushed and grinned at the same time. "You can remind me that you aren't _really _married to Harry."

Hermione giggled and shook her head, trying to look jokingly offended by Ron's suggestive words.

"Ron..." she said through another giggle. He continued to grin at her as she rested her forehead against his, her eyes blurring together. He kissed her on the mouth gently, but she increased the pressure, her tongue moving over his lips. By the time they came up for air, Ron was shaking lightly and Hermione's left leg was draped over Ron's legs. "We..." Hermione began, interrupting her own words with another giggle at Ron's desire filled expression, "have to get back to the tower."

"Now?" Ron groaned. Hermione nodded. Ron closed his eyes, squeezing Hermione tightly to his body.

"We can't get caught..." Hermione whispered.

"I know," Ron said, opening his eyes and smiling softly at Hermione. "Okay. But bloody hell, just... put some clothes on quick because you're torturing me."

Hermione giggled once again as she sat up and climbed over Ron out of the bed. He clamped his eyes shut, resisting the urge to stare as she dressed, knowing that it would only make him more miserable in the end.

"Okay, it's safe," Hermione said through a grin as she stared down at Ron, now fully clothed. He opened his eyes and sighed, admiring the way her cheeks were tinged with a deep pink blush, her hair messy around her face, her eyelashes so long that they cast shadows on her cheeks in the firelight when she blinked. "Up," Hermione said softly, and Ron was snapped out of his daze, remembering that they had to get back, that the most important thing was to never lose this - the chance to be together, for no one to know - no matter what the price.

Ron got off the bed and dressed quickly, and together, he and Hermione removed their robes from the back of the couch and ducked under the invisibility cloak again. They cautiously made their way through corridor after corridor, up flights of stairs, and finally, through the portrait hole and into the common room. When the door had shut behind them, Ron removed the invisibility cloak from over them and pocketed it, smiling sadly at Hermione.

"I guess this is it," he said.

Hermione nodded and ducked her head as she stepped forward, hugging Ron tightly. He squeezed her back just as tightly.

"We should tell Harry... tomorrow... on break. Do you think we can meet in your dormitory? No one comes back to the tower on morning break, do they?" Hermione moved back from Ron to look up at him.

"No," Ron said. "I had to come back for a book once and the whole tower was deserted."

"Perfect," Hermione said, sighing again. "Goodnight, Ron."

"Night," he echoed before kissing her gently on the nose. She smiled at him before turning and heading up to her dormitory.

* * *

By morning break, Ron had convinced himself quite thoroughly that none of what they had to do would really be so bad. He could handle this. He'd be totally fine. He could just avoid Harry and Hermione in the hallways, and even if he did have to see them holding hands once or twice, what was the harm? He knew Hermione loved him. And he could sometimes catch a glimpse of the chain around her neck when she'd lean over her parchment to write something important down. It reminded him of what they really were, what they really had, and what no one could take from them... as long as they made sure no one ever found out.

He reached the boys' dormitory first and sat on his bed, waiting for Harry and Hermione to arrive. Harry entered no more than a minute later with Hermione right behind him. Harry exchanged a glance with Ron, but he looked confused and a little impatient. Obviously, Hermione had not said anything more than "meet in the dormitory" to Harry before now.

"Okay," Harry said, "what's going on?"

Hermione looked at Ron and he nodded kindly for her to go on.

"Harry, some Ministry representatives are coming to the school at the end of the week to investigate student marriages. They're trying to see if they can prove that any of them were performed solely to save a Muggleborn from persecution. If they can prove it, the marriage will be rendered invalid. So-" But Harry interrupted her, looking totally incredulous.

"Are you serious?" He looked from Hermione, who wore an apologetic expression, to Ron, who shrugged. "That's disgusting."

"Yeah," Ron agreed. "So you and Hermione have to act like you're really together or people will start to get suspicious. We just need to make sure no one gets the idea that you _aren't_ actually... in love."

Hermione exchanged another sad look with Ron, but he just smiled back, and he could literally see relief flood through her at his calm reaction to everything.

"Ron..." Harry began as he sat on the bed next to Ron, "are you sure this is okay?"

"We don't have a choice," Ron said, shrugging casually again. "Obviously it's kind of... awkward... but it's for Hermione's protection."

Harry nodded.

"And yours too, really," Ron added thoughtfully to Harry.

"Hermione," Harry said, looking up at her for confirmation of everything, but she sighed and began speaking again quickly.

"I'm sorry to have to put you through this Harry-" she said, but Harry stood again, shaking his head enthusiastically.

"Don't worry about me, Hermione," he said, shocked. "You're the one who has to be put in these mental situations simply because of your blood status. It's... unforgivable."

Hermione nodded.

"So what do we need to do?" Harry continued.

"Just... hold hands... you know, generally act like we... fancy each other," Hermione said, sighing.

"Okay, I can do that," Harry said, looking at Ron again.

"It's really okay, mate," Ron said convincingly, but Harry remained skeptical and continued to study Ron for any signs of resistance. Ron chuckled. "Just do it. The bastards can't stay for too long, and then we'll go back to how things were before."

Harry nodded slowly and sighed.

"Okay," he said. The three of them exchanged a long silent communication during which they accepted what they had to do, and before too much time could pass, before they'd all be late for their next class, they filed wordlessly out of the dormitory.

* * *

_They _were holding hands, walking down the corridor towards the Great Hall for dinner...

Ron had lingered outside the Potions classroom for a while to give Hermione and Harry a head start. But he had caught up to them. He shook his head to clear it. It didn't mean anything, what he was seeing.

Hermione laughed, a happy slice through Ron's heart as he watched Harry respond with a loving smile, their hands still clasped. Ron cleared his throat and sped up, his only option now to pass them and reach the Great Hall first so he wouldn't have to watch. He hadn't thought of this, of the possibility of being caught behind them, and now that it was happening, he knew he had to make sure it didn't happen again. Hermione's silence as he passed them was a temptation he had to resist. He wanted to look at her, to give her a sign so she'd know he was alright, even if maybe he wasn't. After all, to her it might seem that he was stomping off in a rage, though in actuality, all he really wanted was to remove himself from the situation, to gently lift the brick from his stomach and toss it aside.

Lunch wasn't easy, but Ron managed for a while... until Dean and Seamus both made their way to where Ron, Harry and Hermione always sat. And because they were all close friends, Ron knew that Harry would have to turn up the game, to make sure Dean and Seamus knew what was supposed to be between Harry and Hermione... And watching Harry put his arm around Hermione, watching his friends laugh and chat about something that he did not have the power to comprehend at the moment, Ron felt a new weight sink into his gut, something powerful and devastating.

Harry and Hermione did not have to hide a thing. They were free. They would never have to feel the pain of knowing that they could not be together publicly. They could hold hands, sit close, _gaze at each other_... as they were doing now...

Ron could sense a familiar taste in the back of his throat as he watched, but he swallowed, fought off the urge to be sick.

When the day was finally over, Ron felt numb, dizzy... and he wanted nothing more than to go to bed, to close his eyes and block out everything else, all the world's cruelty. He slumped into his bed, having resisted even saying goodnight to Hermione on his way up. He had left her with _him _in the common room, left them with arms around each other, studying together, _smiling at each other_.

Ron slammed an angry fist into his mattress. He had to pull it together. He was going to give the Ministry inspectors a reason to be suspicious if he kept it up. And then a terrible thought crossed his mind, one that he accepted as absolutely true the moment he thought it. They would question _him_. If the Ministry bastards were going to question anyone about Harry and Hermione, he'd be first on their list. He'd have to sit in a room with them and tell them how much his two best friends loved each other... how much _his_ girl _loved _his best mate.

Breathing raggedly, Ron squeezed his eyes shut as tight as they would go, struggling not to vomit, pain ripping through his chest.

"Damn it..." he muttered as he clenched his blanket in his fists, trying to calm down.

He had thought he'd be alright, that he could handle it, that the love he knew Hermione felt for him would consume him even through this. But now, looking it in the eye, seeing what he had imagined and accepted, actually _seeing _it, watching them together... it was so much worse than he had imagined. And now, perhaps the worst part of it all was knowing what he now realized... that if only Hermione had loved Harry instead, if only Ron hadn't been selfish enough to tell her that he was in love with her in the first place, she might be... _happy_...

"No, no, no..." Ron murmured, his eyes still tightly shut. Had he really saved her, had he given her what she needed? Or had he doomed her to a life of confusion and misery... and himself to night after night of agonizing envy?

He had saved himself from his pre-planned death, from the one that involved him taking his biggest secret to the early grave that waited for his broken and shredded heart. He had confessed his love to her and averted one disaster. But now, in the end, all he had done was to replace the method of his destruction, to remove one burden and weigh himself down again with another. He wouldn't die from keeping a secret. He would die from revealing it.


	7. For You, Part 1

**Chapter 7 - For You, Part 1**

**One Week Later**

"Mr. Weasley."

Ron stared at the table in front of him. He couldn't even hear the man who stood two feet away from him.

"Mr. Weasley." More insistent this time, more impatient. And Ron felt himself snap, a cloud lifting slowly from his brain as his eyes moved up, up... staring back into the angled face of the clean shaven man who stood in front of him in very official looking robes.

"S-sorry," Ron stuttered as he attempted to regain his composure. "Uh, I just... sorry."

The man glared at him, clearly not happy to have been ignored.

"Did you even hear the question, Mr. Weasley?"

"I'm sorry, I was studying late last night," Ron lied. "I didn't get much sleep. Can you repeat-" But the man cut him off angrily.

"I asked you about Mr. and Mrs. Potter."

_Mrs. Potter._

A quick stab in his chest, in and back out again, leaving a gaping wound that gushed from his heart, though no one saw it. Ron had been practicing, preparing for this. He had gotten quite good over the past week at hiding everything, at staring blankly, at being... unaffected.

"Oh, yes," Ron said, nodding his recognition. "Right."

"You're a close friend of both, yes?"

"Uh, yeah," Ron said, clearing his throat. "That's right."

"Tell me about them, how they are together. What made them decide to marry so young?"

Another stab, a slice through his chest. He swallowed the lump in his throat and arranged his features into a thoughtful expression devoid of improper emotion.

"Yeah, well..." Ron shifted in his chair. "They've been best friends since we were little... eleven, actually. Well, Hermione was technically twelve when we all..." Ron caught himself drifting off subject and shifted in his chair again, regaining some of his composure. "But um, yeah, they just sort of... decided. We spend a lot of time together, the three of us."

"I see," the examiner said blankly. "And Mrs. Potter, she's a Muggleborn?"

"Yes," Ron said, but he continued quickly in the hope that he could build Hermione up as what he knew they wanted her to be, "but she never really goes home to see her family. She stays pretty much in our world, visits my family over the holidays. And she's brilliant. She's the smartest witch in our year... no, probably in the whole school actually..."

"And Mr. Potter," continued the examiner, "he married her shortly before the school year began?"

"Yeah, that's right," Ron said, blinking and trying to look as bored as the examiner, unaffected.

"Hm."

Ron sensed that the examiner wasn't totally convinced by what Ron was saying. He had to step it up... damn it.

"They really love each other," he said in a rush, letting the words run free so he couldn't stop them from escaping. "Everybody knows that. She's kind of like a sister to me." 

And then it hit him. 

_He was going to be Harry. _This was how Harry saw Hermione. It was easier for him to pretend that he was Harry talking about _himself _and Hermione than it was for him to be himself and lie his way through this... Yes, he could do this. He could be Harry Potter for a few minutes...

"How do you know they love each other?"

"Oh," Ron said, chuckling as he imagined looking at himself, watching all the obvious signs develop between Hermione and himself over the years, "he's made it pretty obvious. He's always going on about her. He really loves her, dreams about her even. I've known for a long time that they'd get together in the end. They just figured it didn't make sense to wait. What's the point, right? My parents married early. And Hermione wants to stay in our world when she graduates from school. Harry figured he could marry her now and then they'd, you know, have some things already worked out before they left school."

He was on a roll. This was going to work... The examiner nodded and looked surprised in a sort of pleasant way, like he had finally gotten some useful information. Perfect.

"Okay, good," he said as he jotted a few notes down. "And how does Mrs. Potter feel?"

_No, it's Ms. Granger_... or... he could even replace it with Mrs. _Weasley_. A grin spread across his face...

"She really loves him," Ron said. "It's obvious. And she's told him, I've heard her."

"You have?" asked the examiner, watching Ron carefully.

"Yeah, sure have." Ron made a slightly disgusted face. "They don't snog much in public now because I told them I really didn't want to see that."

"Why's that?"

"Oh, just imagine watching your sister and your best friend snogging. That's disgusting..." Ron pulled another believable face and the examiner chuckled lightheartedly. Ron hadn't even realized this man had the ability to chuckle... and definitely not lightheartedly.

"Well, Mr. Weasley, I think that's all we have for you today," the man said as he tucked his quill behind his ear. "Thank you, you may go."

Ron stood, nodded, and turned his back on the room, exiting quickly, but not fast enough to look suspicious. The moment he was out in the hallway, he turned purposefully and headed back to the dormitory. It was over.

It was like a layer of whatever shield he had put up around himself when he'd first entered that little room had just fallen away. He felt a bit vulnerable and sick now. He needed to be alone, away from the busy halls of the castle... away from Harry. He crossed his fingers in his own pocket that Harry wouldn't be in the dormitory when he arrived...

* * *

A short time later, Ron was ascending the dormitory stairs, happy to be almost where he needed to be. But as he approached the closed dormitory door, he slowed down. Beyond the door, he could hear _their _voices, Harry _and _Hermione. He stopped abruptly when he heard Hermione sobbing as she spoke.

"I want to be able to hold his hand in the corridors and... and go to Hogsmeade together! What's going to happen when we leave school? We can't live together! People will find out..."

"I'm sorry, Hermione," Harry replied sadly. "Look, it's not so bad. When we leave school, I'll get a place with Ron and you'll live with us because... you're my _wife_. But, then you can stay in his room and no one will know."

"I'm so tired of hiding, Harry," Hermione sobbed.

Ron couldn't move. He could only stare forward at the closed door, his face screwed up as he tried hard not to cry at the sound of anguish in Hermione's voice.

"I know," Harry said softly. "I'm sorry."

"I don't know what to do..." Hermione managed to say through another sob.

Ron couldn't listen any longer. He turned his back on the door and was ready to descend the stairs again when the door behind him was wrenched open with a startling sound.

"Ron?" Harry said, his voice a little rough now that he was forced to speak louder than he had been for some time.

Ron swallowed hard and turned to face Harry, knowing that he wasn't hiding his feelings very well. But damn it, he wasn't good at that. He had made it through one trial today and was not up for another. He didn't care how he looked.

"You heard us?" Harry asked very quietly, but the moment Hermione's bushy head came into view, Ron managed to wipe away almost all traces of sadness and replace them with a smile that felt like a grimace.

"How did it go?" Hermione asked quickly, clearly trying to hide her own sorrow from Ron as well. Fine. He didn't mind this little game at the moment. He preferred not to talk about it, not to face it after what he'd just been through.

"I honestly think I might have fooled them," Ron said with a shrug.

Hermione sighed and smiled softly at him.

"Thank you, Ron," she said as she leaned up to kiss him on the cheek. "I should get to class. I still have Arithmancy today."

Hermione brushed past Ron and he remained staring forward at Harry, their eyes locked, Harry's much more sad and apologetic than Ron's.

"She-" Harry started once it was clear that Hermione was out of earshot. But Ron shook his head and interrupted.

"I need to be alone. I don't want to talk about it," Ron said quickly, almost sharply, and he passed Harry to enter the dormitory, almost missing the tiny nod that Harry sent in his direction as Harry silently agreed to leave him.

* * *

**One Month Later**

The strain of not being together, _really _together, since everything had been turned upside down, since the Ministry had begun _spying _on them, had really worn Ron down. He felt exhausted and ill. His grades had suffered mildly, even though Hermione had tried to help him as usual. It was too hard to concentrate when she spoke, like her voice was a radio station he couldn't quite tune into.

And now, before he had even really taken the time to think about it, the Christmas holiday had arrived.

The train ride from Hogwarts to King's Cross was nearly silent, and now the car ride from the station to the Burrow was almost the same. Ron closed his eyes, hoping to seem as tired as possible so that he wouldn't have to answer for his behavior.

The car finally pulled up to the Burrow, and after he exited slowly, he turned around to wait for everyone else.

He felt sick to his stomach as he watched Hermione climbing out of the car. He was glad they hadn't tried to Apparate. He would have splinched himself for sure. He tried to smile, tried to think of only this moment now with her, what they had together. They'd have a good many nights together now to be alone. It should be thrilling... it _was _thrilling. It _was_...

He raised his chin slightly, determined to clear his thoughts, to focus on her. It was a holiday after all. This was what he had looked forward to, what he had been waiting for all term. It had been a bit of light approaching as they prepared for the coming vacation. And now it was here. They only had his family to worry about now. It would be so much easier to be together. Ron had his own private room. They both had Apparition licenses now. It was the closest thing to perfect that they were ever going to get...

"Are you okay?" Hermione half-mouthed up at Ron as he stared down at her.

"Yeah," he lied, not meeting her eyes and silencing any follow up Hermione could have been preparing. Slowly, they went inside the house for dinner.

* * *

Hermione tapped her feet impatiently on the floor of Ginny's room, waiting for Ron to tell her it was safe for her to come up to his room for the night. They hadn't really planned it, but it was just assumed that they'd be sleeping together now that they had some vague semblance of privacy. She had been waiting for this for so long... really since the beginning of term. When they had spent that first night together at the Burrow, it had seemed so perfect and beautiful. But the moment they arrived at school, everything had slowly begun to look a lot less clear, like a veil had been dropped down over her, obstructing her view.

They were here now, a place where they could escape and be together, how things should have been from the start. It was a way to recharge, to save up their happiness so they could make it through another term.

Before they had left school, Hermione had felt such a strain between them. Ron had hardly spoken to her those last few weeks, and it had been so difficult to get him on his own to ask him about it. She had not been scheduling their rounds together. She was terrified now of being discovered, of someone overhearing their conversations or following them. She knew that in some ways it was irrational paranoia, and she wanted Ron to know that it had been as hard for her as it had been for him. She thought he should know, after all this time, after all they had said, that she loved him still and always would... but she had not really been able to talk to him, to see inside his head and his heart the way he had let her before...

* * *

Ron stood in the center of his room, careful not to make a sound. He was listening for any sign of movement from the floors below to be sure everyone had gone to bed... everyone who mattered anyway. Once he was sure his parents wouldn't bother him, he would go down to Ginny's room and fetch Hermione. The only problem was Ginny. He didn't think Harry had told her anything about what was happening. Harry was too noble, the bastard. In one way, this was a good thing. The fewer people who knew, the better. But then again, it would be nice not to have to sneak around Ginny as well, especially when Hermione was supposed to be sharing a room with her. Or did Ginny think that Hermione would be staying nights with Harry?

Ron made a disgusted face at his closed bedroom door. He hoped Ginny hadn't ever had the misfortune of imagining Hermione sleeping in the same bed as Harry, not least of all because it would hurt Ginny terribly to have to imagine Harry with someone else...

Ron felt bad for his sister all over again every time he realized that she was going through something he had been able to avoid. But it was Harry's choice now, not Ron's. And Harry had done what Ron had only recently started to admire...

Ron didn't want to feel so confused about every little thing... but it was impossible for him to simply go on, to ignore the fact that what Harry had told _him _to do, the advice Harry had given him, Harry couldn't even follow for himself. Was it weakness that Ron had shown by accepting what Harry had offered? Sometimes Ron thought it was. He wondered if he had done everything the wrong way, if he had endangered the person he wanted to protect most... if he had been selfish...

A light knock on his door caused him to jump, all contemplations forgotten. He opened the door just a crack and found himself staring out at a slightly bewildered Hermione. He ushered her inside and shut the door with a soft click.

"What's going on?" she asked in a whisper.

Ron raised his wand and swished it over their heads, silencing the room so they could speak normally.

"What do you mean?" he asked, pocketing his wand again.

"I was waiting for you..."

"Oh," Ron said guiltily as he ran a hand through his hair. "I wasn't sure if it was safe yet."

"Ginny's still in the kitchen, but your parents are in bed."

"Where's Harry?" Ron asked. He hadn't meant for it to sound like an accusation, but somehow it had come out that way. Hermione simply shrugged.

"Haven't seen him since dinner."

Ron nodded and stared down at her but said nothing for a long moment.

"What's the matter?" Hermione finally asked, furrowing her eyebrows.

He really didn't want to talk about it. In fact, he would rather do almost anything than discuss the horrible things that were on his mind. He knew, on some level, that she'd never let it go, that it was like a form of torture to make her move on now that she sensed something was up, to make her wonder and ponder it all night while he tried not to focus on it...

"Just tired," he heard himself say. He hated lying to her, but what choice did he have? He wasn't ready to figure this out. Wasn't ready to face it...

She looked away from him and he felt like she had distanced herself in that moment, but when he reached out to her, she smiled and leaned against him, burying her face in his chest and sighing.

"We have a whole two weeks here," Hermione said happily, her voice muffled against Ron's shirt.

"Yeah," he said, feeling a slight weight lift from his heart at her words.

His fingers absentmindedly twisted into the chain around Hermione's neck, touching the metal where it rested against her skin at the back of her neck and under her thick curls.

"What should we do now?" Hermione asked, her voice quite devious as she spoke through an obvious grin that Ron could not see with her face still tightly pressed against his chest. Ron found himself grinning back over the top of her head.

"I have a few ideas..." he said.

Hermione pushed back from him and their eyes met, matching grins on their faces now. Hermione's hands moved slowly to the bottom hem of her blouse and, raising her eyebrows, she turned around so her back was towards Ron, and she pulled the blouse over her head, letting it drop to the floor beside her.

Ron's next exhale came out as a ragged tremor that seemed to start in his throat and echo down to the tips of his toes. He swayed a bit dizzily as he continued to watch her undress. Finally shaking himself out of his trance, he began to take off his own clothes, imagining that Hermione might not be pleased to find him still standing their gawking at her after she had stripped down to her underwear...

They had only done this twice before, and it still felt almost as new as it had the very first time. And now, another new thing had been added to the mix. They were in his room. _His _room. Where he had lived, where he had _slept_, for his whole life. The place he thought of when someone said the word 'home'. The place where he missed Hermione when she wasn't around. The place where he dreamt of her over a holiday spent apart.

Hermione finally turned around to face him, her cheeks flushed and hair slightly more wild than it had been moments before. Ron paused to grin, amused at the idea that her embarrassment didn't just show in her blush, but seemed to carry over into the state of her hair.

He opened his arms in invitation and she gladly entered his embrace. He kissed her very softly, feather light on her lips, and her breathing seemed to slow down rather than speed up. It was a strange effect, feeling so nervous and excited but calm all at once.

He pushed backwards against her so they toppled gently on top of his bed, and together they slid and crawled their way up into a comfortable position, Ron lying half on top of Hermione, the hairs on his chest tickling her goosebump covered skin and causing her to giggle softly as he grinned down at her.

After a moment, she fell silent, their eyes locked as his fingers twirled into her hair.

"I stocked up on potion before leaving school," Hermione whispered, even though no one could hear her through the silencing charm Ron had placed around the room. It was as if the words themselves needed to be uttered as quietly as possible so that even the inanimate objects in Ron's small bedroom wouldn't know what was about to happen.

"You should let _me _steal it sometime," Ron said.

"Why?" Hermione asked, chuckling, her chest vibrating against Ron's delightfully. "Tell me, do you really get some sort of thrill out of disobeying rules?" She rolled her eyes playfully.

"Sort of," Ron admitted, and Hermione swatted him gently across the shoulder. "But that's not why," he continued. "Just figured we should take turns risking detention."

"You mean _expulsion_," Hermione shuttered, but she quickly recovered and continued... "But anyway, I have a reason to need it, don't I," but her mouth snapped closed as if she wished she could take back the words she'd just spoken.

Ron merely shook his head, still smiling at her. It wasn't as if her words hadn't left an impact. It was a blow no matter how used to it he became. And the truth was that he'd never be completely used to it. Hermione wasn't his in anyone's eyes but theirs.

Something was changing. The air around them was still. But Ron knew, in his heart, that he was traveling somewhere alone this time. She wouldn't follow him.

He wanted every moment to be perfect. He wanted to feel her so completely and let her see inside his heart as she had before. It felt so wonderful to know that she could look through him, see everything he was and out the other side, and still love him. But not tonight. He was not perfect inside. The beauty and love that had no doubt surrounded everything that she looked upon before was marred.

"I'm not perfect," he said aloud, shocking himself. Hermione looked shocked and confused as she shook her head.

"Neither am I," she said back, her voice laced with hesitation as she tried to figure out what had caused Ron's sudden change of subject.

"You know I want to argue with that," Ron teased.

"No one's perfect, Ron," Hermione said gently. "But I love everything that you are, even the things that _you _don't."

The beauty of her words rang more true and clear than any of his muddled thoughts ever could. He leaned over her and took her lips between his, moving them gently to open her mouth, pressing his tongue against hers.

When they separated, Ron buried his face in her hair, his nose against her head.

"I love you," he whispered into her ear. When he exhaled, it seemed that every last ounce of oxygen inside his lungs was released, completely freeing him in that moment between breaths.

It wasn't quite like saying goodbye... but it was close.


	8. For You, Part 2

**Chapter 8 - For You, Part 2**

Two weeks at the Burrow evaporated into a blur of holiday food, a constant parade of people throughout the house, and stolen moments together in the dead of night in Ron's attic bedroom. Increasingly unsettling news about the Ministry's Muggleborn investigations continued to pour in with every Daily Prophet, and Harry, Ron and Hermione had become so solemn and silent as the mornings had passed, that by the day before it was time to return to Hogwarts, Ginny was no longer even bothering to try and lighten the mood with a good joke or a game of two-a-side Quidditch...

By eleven that night, the only sound in the little drawing room was the ticking of an old clock set back in a shadowy corner and the occasional cough from Harry who had developed a mild cold a few days previous. Ron and Hermione sat in arm chairs facing the couch, neither one even looking at the other. It was as if someone had died, and they were waiting to enter the funeral service in the next room.

Finally, Harry stretched and stood from the end of the couch where he had been for the past two hours. Ron's eyes moved to Harry, up his body to his eyes. But the moment Harry looked over, meeting Ron's eyes, Ron looked away again and returned to his motionless slump in his arm chair.

"I'm going to bed," Harry sighed. Ron vaguely grunted recognition of Harry's words, and with a final look back at them, Harry left Ron and Hermione alone in the dimly lit room, the only light coming from two candles perched on a little table between the couch and the arm chairs.

"It's our last night here," Hermione said, shocking Ron. He hadn't heard her voice in quite some time tonight. "We should enjoy it." She sighed gently and shuffled against the back of her chair.

Ron's lips felt glued together. It was too much effort to pry them apart, so he waited for Hermione to speak again. It was a very long wait, and he wasn't sure she was even going to try again. He felt guilty, but for some reason, he couldn't make himself say anything back. But finally...

"D-do you still love me?" Hermione asked timidly, her voice so soft and distant, like it had been broadcast to Ron years ago and had only now reached his ears.

"What?" he asked dryly, startled. He turned to face her finally, adjusting his body so his whole torso was awkwardly twisted in her direction to his left. She was staring down at her lap, her hair falling over her shoulders to partially obscure her face, light from the candles in front of them flickering against her pale skin.

"You can tell me the truth," she said in that same tiny voice. It was only then that Ron realized he had not confirmed his answer to her question, an answer he knew so strongly in his own heart that he had forgotten she was really asking for it.

"Of course I still love you!" Ron whispered violently, afraid of being overheard, but needing her to understand the importance of his words.

His eyes flicked up once to the open door to the hallway. It was so dark beyond the door frame. Someone could be standing there, hearing everything they were saying. But Ron supressed his fear as he leaned over the arm of his chair to wrap a hand around Hermione's forearm. He felt her muscles tense up at the contact and he sighed frustratedly. A war raged inside his mind, one that he had been on a very distinct side of before... but now, he found himself being pulled in two directions, constantly battling against himself and never sure if anything he did or said these days was truly right or good.

"Why did you ask me, Hermione?" Ron begged, still in a whisper. "What did I do?"

"I don't _know _you right now, Ron," Hermione admitted softly, turning now to stare down at Ron's hand on her arm.

"Of course you know me," Ron replied, baffled. "What are you on about? You're my-"

"I've lost you to your own head," Hermione interrupted, looking up into Ron's eyes now, finally. Her eyes burned a hole through his, right into his soul, and he felt her inside his head now like he hadn't in so long.

He felt so vulnerable and naked now... where before, when she'd seen the depths of his soul each time she'd looked at him that way, he'd felt comforted in knowing that she loved even the darkness she saw there. Now... he wanted to cover his secrets and protect her for as long as he could... knowing in some way that it was useless to resist her.

"You're confused... and you're hiding something," Hermione whispered, her eyes still locked with his.

She had finally said it, what he'd feared she'd already guessed weeks ago. It was hanging in the air between them. And the worst part was, he couldn't imagine lying to her... not like this.

"Let's go upstairs," Ron whispered slowly, begging her with his eyes to ask no more questions here. They were too exposed.

It was hard to be so rational with her staring at him like that, her eyes filling with tears... but he had to be. It was the only way to keep up the game they had been playing, to stay together... But then... _that _was _really _the worst of it, the bit he couldn't say yet. He would destroy something he wasn't ready to shatter. But he felt it coming, had felt it for so long now... a shadow looming over him, threatening... unreal... like he was inside someone else's life, a much older person's life, someone who was dealing with a decision that could kill him... but one that he had no choice but to make now.

...But _was _it the right thing? Was it right because it was the hardest choice he would ever make? Did 'right' and 'difficult' _always _go hand in hand? It had seemed that way... for so long it had seemed that way.

Hermione stood from her arm chair, startling Ron out of his trance, and he stood next to her, followed her up the stairs to his bedroom, their feet so light on the rug-covered wood, two weeks of practice so obvious in the way they avoided the more rickety steps, the ones that would creak and give them up.

Hermione entered his room so casually it made his stomach bubble excitedly. But the moment he entered behind her and she turned to face him, his brain took over, pushing his heart aside, and the sick feeling that had been festering since their arrival at the Burrow intensified.

"Go on then," Hermione said, her voice low and hoarse like she had already been crying for days. Ron shut his door with a click and stared down at her, unable to move much closer.

"I... I _have _been hiding something," he heard himself say. _No! This isn't the way it's supposed to go... it can't be! It just can't..._

"Please, Ron," Hermione begged. He was killing her by drawing this out.

"I've been... not really myself," he continued, aware that he was still stalling for time, but his heartbeat was pulsing so loudly inside his own head that he could hardly think straight. He had to get this right...  
_  
One more night with her. Please. Just one.  
_  
"Tell me what's going on," she whispered, fear filling her voice, her eyes wide, glowing and wet.

He stepped towards her, drawn like a magnet... like a sleepwalker unable to resist some supernatural pull.

_One more. Just this one. And I promise..._

Another step, closing the gap, her chest rising as she breathed sharply. His proximity, as usual, overwhelmed her... delighting him that he could make her feel that way, that he could excite her, _intimidate _her.

She belonged to him.

His stomach tossed over, churned and released a thousand butterflies to flutter violently.

And he belonged to her.

He took her face in his hands, their chests an inch apart.

"I'm so scared for you, Hermione... terrified," he choked, his blue eyes so wide.

"But... I'm with _you_," she trembled. "I'm not afraid."

"I know. I know now..." Ron whispered. "We'll make it."

The corners of her mouth turned up so slightly he could have missed it.

"How do you know?" she asked.

"Because I need you. And as bad as things are, every time I look at you it all melts away."

Her lips quivered.

His kiss was soft, his lips mingling with her, one between the other.  
_  
One more night._

He held her tight, his body reacting to hers as it always did. And as he pulled her to the bed, she fell back against him. She was part of him. More than that.

He could forget the world, shut it out. This was everything.

Tears stung his eyes as he clamped them shut, holding her body on top of his, lips and arms becoming so tightly entangled that it would take an apocalypse to pull them apart.

Or two words. And they rattled around in the back of his mind, though he chanted their opposite...

_It's not over._

...not yet.


	9. For You, Part 3

**Chapter 9 - For You, Part 3**

He roughly shoved his previously folded clothing into his trunk. Behind him, his bed springs creaked as Hermione sat up, finally awake. She had been sleeping later than usual... more comfortable, she had told him. And as he heard her sigh contentedly, his eyes fluttered shut, though she couldn't see him.

"Morning," she said in her adorably unused voice, the voice he had grown so accustomed to hearing first thing every day.

"Morning," he said back, continuing to pack his trunk with his back to her.

But he felt her moving towards him, his bed springs creaking again as she stood... her footsteps so light on his rug. And then her tiny hands were sliding down his shoulders as she sat behind him, pressing her chest to his back, her head resting so gently on his left shoulder blade. His trembling hands touched her wrists where they were overlapping against his chest.

"We should hurry," Ron heard himself say. "Mum'll be up here to check on me any minute."

"Mmm..." Hermione half-moaned, kissing Ron's shoulder through his thin t-shirt.

His skin tingled violently. His muscles turned to mush, his heart beating a familiar, wild rhythm inside his chest.

"You're right," Hermione finally said, beginning to withdraw her arms from around Ron.

But Ron's hands squeezed tighter against her wrists as she moved back, a reflex he could not shake. She giggled as she finally broke free from him, and as a response to this beautiful sound, his heart exploded into a million tiny pieces that shot through his bloodstream like fireworks.

She shuffled behind him, gathering the rest of her clothing, and he chanced a glance back at her, unable to resist. She stood there in her knickers and an old shirt of his, faded tan and full of holes. Bits of skin peaked through from underneath... her stomach and her shoulders... torturing him as he watched her move, the threadbare fabric gliding over her body in a strange sort of caress.

She caught him staring and immediately grinned down at him, darting quickly over and crouching before him, catching him off guard with a crushing kiss. His hands moved down her sides, and his thumb found a hole in the shirt she wore. He dipped his thumb inside to feel her warm skin underneath.

All too quickly, she pulled back, flashed another glorious smile in his direction, and turned on the spot, vanishing from his room with a pop.

Dazed, Ron stared at where she had just been standing, his lips slightly parted, wet from kissing. The sound of footsteps on the stairs leading up to his bedroom knocked him back to reality, to the task at hand... and he returned to packing his trunk, his hands shaking again as he tried not to think about what was coming, the storm that was looming overhead. It was hear now. And he could not fight it anymore.

* * *

That night, Ron paced his dormitory, alone, running his hands through his hair roughly. He passed by his desk and caught his reflection in the mirror, shocked by how crazed he looked, his hair sticking up at odd angles, his eyes a bit bloodshot and dark, sunken into their sockets.

The door behind him swung open and he jumped, turning towards the intruder. It was Harry... followed closely by Neville. They crossed to Harry's trunk, Neville chatting with Harry about some assignment they were apparently working on together, while Harry searched for a book in the depths of his trunk... The words between them in the air floated towards Ron's ears, but they seemed to die on the way there. It was as if Ron was sinking underwater or buried deep underground.

"You okay, mate?" Harry asked, furrowing his eyebrows as he tucked the book he had come for under his arm, facing Ron.

"I need to talk to you," Ron said shortly, blankly, almost desperately... and Harry stared at him for a moment too long, understanding something dark that was threatening Ron now, something that he had to address.

"Sorry, Neville," Harry said distractedly. "I'll be down in a minute."

"Yeah, yeah," Neville said dismissively, also looking concerned, but he exited the room without another word.

There was a long pause between them after Neville's footsteps faded to silence. And then, without warning, Ron began to shout.

"You told me this was going to work out! God, I'm so stupid! Why did I listen to you?" Ron's face was turning scarlet quickly, his hands balled into fists at his sides, his legs shaking. "You're a prat, Harry! You won't even take your own advice. Think you're too good for my sister now, is that it? Or are you protecting her? Maybe you think she's worth more than Hermione, more important. So it's fine to let me risk everything with Hermione, but you won't do the same to be with Ginny..."

Harry opened his mouth to protest, aghast. But Ron plowed on, not allowing Harry a moment to speak.

"You let me tell her that I loved her!-" Harry glanced nervously at the door to the dormitory before removing his wand from his back pocket and aiming it at the door, ready to perform a silencing charm... Ron caught the action and scoffed... "-and _now _you care about us being overheard?"

"Ron! You're being completely irrational!" Harry shouted back, his wand still pointed at the door. "Silencio."

"_I'm_ being irrational?" Ron roared. "I want her to be safe, Harry! I should never have done this to her, should have never listened to you. This isn't going to work! It won't! And now I have to break her heart."

"You... _what_?" Harry asked, his eyes wide, alarmed.

"She actually _loves _me! She really does!" Ron said with awe, a softness to his voice that had not been there before. "I don't understand it. But it's true. And... and I have to end it. I-"

"Ron, what are you-" Harry started, but Ron interrupted again, pacing now at the end of his bed.

"I kept telling myself 'just one more day, one more night and then it's over'. But I couldn't do it! And every day that passes... every day... it gets even worse, so much harder to tell her."

"Stop, Ron," Harry commanded, but it was as if Ron hadn't heard him.

"She can be happy... she _can_! I don't know if she knows that, if she'll believe me... but she has to! And you're going to make her happy, Harry! She deserves that. I..."

Ron stopped pacing and sat on the end of his bed, resting his elbows on his knees and burying his face in his hands.

"Ron, listen to me," Harry began, but a soft knock on the door interrupted them. Ron peaked up over his hands, his eyes on the door, his heart thumping so rapidly inside his chest that he was sure it was her without even seeing her. She was the only one who made him feel this way...

"A-answer it, Harry," Ron managed to say, and Harry crossed to the door, opening it very slowly to reveal Hermione...

"Hi," she said, smiling softly. "Is Ron..." but then she saw him, her eyes landing on him as Harry opened the door wider for her to enter.

"Leave us, Harry," Ron said instantly.

"Ron-" Harry tried to protest.

"Leave us," Ron repeated firmly, and finally, after a long look between them, Harry reluctantly turned to go, shutting the door behind him.

"Ron, what's going on?" Hermione asked, standing there in the middle of the dormitory, looking so vulnerable and frightened.

"We... we need to talk," Ron said, rubbing his hands over his face, muffling his next words. "We need to talk while I can still do it."

Hermione said nothing, and when Ron finally stood, he caught a glance of her terrified eyes. He felt a sharp pang in his stomach, twisting like a knife that he had inserted himself. He was doing this. Looking at her would ruin everything. If he avoided her eyes, avoided her body altogether... maybe he'd be strong enough to do this. Maybe... He focused on a random spot on the wall instead, and when he continued, it was with as little emotion as he could manage.

"I think..." he began, but he shook his head. It wasn't a question anymore, not something to be argued or discussed. He had already decided. "No, I _know_... that... that we can't do this anymore."

He heard her breath catch in her throat.

"What do you mean?" she said, her voice wavering so he could hardly make out what she'd said.

"You... and me... we can't..." Ron said softly.

A tiny sound escaped her, a strangled and terrified squeal...

"Y-you aren't... you can't..." she managed to squeak.

"I should never... never have told you... shouldn't have let it go this far... shouldn't have let it start at all..." Ron rambled, still staring at the wall, his eyes going out of focus.

"Look at me!" Hermione shouted, and the sudden increase in the volume of her voice caused Ron to jump and obey without thinking about it.

"I... I've made up my mind," Ron said, his voice completely betraying the certainty he hoped to express in his words.

"Y-you _don't_ love me anymore, do you!" Hermione cried. "It's just so much more convenient for you to chuck me because of the sodding law than to tell me the truth!"

"No!" Ron shouted back, his eyes wide. But he realized his slip, that he wasn't supposed to give her any reason to doubt what he was saying. This was the right thing to do! It had to be. Now. He had to end it here and now. "I just... I just want you to be safe and this is how it has to be and I'm not changing my mind," he said, his voice oddly firm and insistent this time.

"Don't I have a say in this?" Hermione half-sobbed, shaking her head as tears pooled in her eyes. "This isn't right, Ron. Please..."

"Yes. Yes it is. This _is_ right. This is how it has to be." He repeated, his voice hollow and distant now.

"Don't do this!" Hermione cried, her lips trembling. Ron squinted against the tears that formed instantly at the sight of her pain, and he looked away as if burned simply by looking directly at her.

"I don't have anything else to say," he mumbled dully.

But before he knew it, Hermione had run towards him and was shaking him, her hands on his shoulders.

"Wake up!" she shouted. "Stop! Please, stop!" He looked down at her, startled by her proximity.

"You had to know this wouldn't last," Ron said, entranced by her, but forcing himself to continue, not to give in again.

"No," she whispered, shaking her head furiously, her hands still resting on his shoulders. "I thought... I thought I'd _never _lose you..."

"You deserve so much more than this!" Ron shouted, pushing back from her, ignoring her words because he couldn't bear to face them. Hermione's arms dropped to her sides, and Ron stepped even further back from her. "And I won't let you do this anymore!" he continued, his voice shockingly strong. "It's not fair."

"Ron!" Hermione sobbed. "_You _are everything I want, even if this is all there ever is!"

"You could be happy... Harry could-"

"I don't _want _Harry! I want _you_! Don't leave me!" she cried and Ron had to look away again to keep from running back over to comfort her.

This was for her. He was doing this for her, and he wasn't going to turn back. He wasn't.

"Please, Ron!" she begged, and he looked down, concentrating hard on a hole in the rug on the floor, his eyes blurring as they filled with the tears he was not going to let fall.

"You should go," Ron said, his voice oddly steady and distant. He almost couldn't believe he had actually spoken the words himself. But then again, he had removed his heart from all of this, locked it away so he could do what he must... what he thought was right.

"Please..." Hermione sobbed. "Ron... you promised! You _swore _to me it would be alright!" But Ron said nothing.

Finally, tears pouring in sheets down her face, Hermione lifted her head only slightly as if proving to herself that she was brave enough to do this, and she began to head for the door. Just as she passed Ron, she slipped her chain off her neck and dropped it to the ground, the ring that was looped through it thudding slightly when it hit the carpet.

Ron's eyes widened as he realized what she had just done. He wanted to call out to her, to tell her he hadn't meant it and that he still loved her and would _always _love her... but as he heard her footsteps outside the dormitory heading very slowly down the stairs, he closed his eyes, his feet glued to the carpet. It was over. He had finished it.


	10. Giving In, Part 1

**Chapter 10 - Giving In, Part 1**

**One Month Later**

He imagined her with someone else. Sometimes it was Harry's face that he saw. Sometimes it was a foreign stranger, his features dark and blurry, unknowable.

She wasn't speaking now. She had moved from her usual spots to the other side of each classroom to sit as far away from him as she could. And he was glad. He wasn't sure, when he really thought about it, how he had managed to hold on so long, to resist and be strong. But then it wasn't really strength that kept him away... it was silence.

The confused and disappointed looks Harry often gave him stung a lot, but they could not penetrate through the solid wall he had built, a fortress around his soul. Harry wasn't speaking much either. They had all become mourners, souls trapped inside cages... unable to break free.

He wanted to see her happy, wanted, in some devastating way, to be able to look at her and know that she no longer needed him. But then what? What came next for him when she was truly no longer his, when her tears were no longer coming from the heart he had broken? He saw a void, a familiar black hole before him, but now it reflected the place where his future _should _be. It was empty and lifeless... less than nothing.

Was there any point in his life now...?

No. He wasn't crazy, despite the fact that he sometimes wished he was. He wasn't unstable. He was sane. And, in some ways, it was so much more painful to be so, to know exactly _why _it hurt.

But he had his optimistic moments, moments when he imagined that someday things could be better, that they could really win this war and survive. That things could change for them. But then where would she fit into this so-called victory? It could be years, decades, and though he'd spend every moment waiting for her, he had asked her to move on, to be happy without him. And he could not let her suffer for as long as it took for things to be alright. And then, irony being what it was, she would belong to someone else - Harry, if he did what Ron had asked of him... and Ron knew he would not have the heart to tell her he still loved her then.

What now?

He sat in his usual seat in Transfiguration, his hand clenched too tight on his quill. Next to him, Harry sucked on the tip of a Sugar Quill. And why was it that the mere idea that Harry could _enjoy _something infuriated Ron? He looked away and ducked his head, hair falling to cover his face as he took notes. He had lost the taste for sugar. What had it happened, exactly? He couldn't remember. He tried to think of his last dessert, but it became a process much too difficult to handle, the memory now too distant to pull up with much certainty. In fact, what had he eaten for lunch?

He shook his head and his hair tousled itself. Pointless.

Class was dismissed with little fanfare, and Ron nearly missed the announcement altogether. Harry shuffled his books into his bag and sighed, but Ron gave him no satisfaction. Harry could be angry with him. Eventually, he'd understand...

Ron left the classroom last, forgetting the most important thing about his exit... to leave before _her_. Gasping, he caught sight of her robe disappearing around a corner. His heart stopped as he paused in the hallway with wide eyes. Seamus bumped into him, alarmed.

"Oi!" Seamus shouted, sliding out from behind Ron.

"Sorry, mate," Ron mumbled as he adjusted the strap of his bag on his shoulder.

"What's going on?" Seamus asked as he did the same.

"Huh?" Ron blinked.

"Stopping dead in the middle of a corridor..."

"Nothing," Ron shrugged. He didn't have time for this. Not that he had anywhere to go but up to his bed, buried behind his curtains...

Seamus raised his eyebrows at Ron as Ron stalked away from him, cutting down a side hall. He'd take the long way back to Gryffindor tower. At least this way he was moving. And he'd have little chance of running into her...

When he finally reached the portrait hole, the landing was deserted. Letting out a relieved breath, he approached and spoke the password, but before the Fat Lady could even acknowledge him, the door swung open.

Hermione stepped carelessly through, hair in a knotted, frizzy bun and eyes on the floor.

Ron sucked in a breath and stumbled backwards to get away from her, hoping she wouldn't even see him in her distracted state, but she looked up at the sound of his shoes clumsily knocking against the stone floor.

Their eyes met. And widened simultaneously.

Deliriously, Ron reached up and touched his neck, insuring the obstruction of his chain by the collar of his shirt. He hadn't taken it off... not for a moment. But he'd lose control if she found out.

He watched her swallow and attempt to regain a neutral stance, though the rapid movement of her chest gave away the fact that she was far from composed.

He realized he'd been holding his breath. They had been here for far too long, seconds ticking past.

She blinked and looked away, and in a rush, she hurried past him, circling very wide to avoid moving into any space that could be considered personal to him. But, against his will, Ron turned on the spot, following her movements as she nearly leapt down the stairs in her haste to get away from him. She turned at the bottom of the stairs, and then she was gone.

He let out a strained breath and everything overwhelmed him at once. He had to get upstairs, away from everything. The Fat Lady was making some sort of insinuating comment behind him. He had no more time. He had to get away. Now.

Through the common room, and he ignored any attempts to acknowledge his presence... Neville, Dean... and perhaps another frustrated stare from Harry where he sat on the couch with his books piled around him. Ron mentally linked Harry to Hermione merely from the idea of a stack of books, and he slammed his hand into the stone wall once tucked around the first curve of the spiral staircase leading up to the boys' dormitory.

"Sodding hell!" he whispered harshly as he threw open his dormitory door and slammed his bag to the floor, hands shaking violently.

The window was open, a frozen draft wafting towards him.

He stood staring at the opening.

"Shit..." and he closed the window with a thud, leaning back against it and closing his eyes. He pictured, immediately, his own body free floating towards the ground, but never the moment when he'd hit the grass below.

He wasn't crazy. No.

"Are you?" he asked himself as he opened his burning, red-rimmed eyes again.

He went to his bed and threw back the curtains, crawling in and pulling the curtains back shut as tightly as possible. He didn't want to die. No matter how many times he imagined it. He wanted to live to see her again, even the way he just had. If he died, it would be over... the pain... and the happ-

What was the word for that feeling, again?

Warm salt water coated his pale face, and he closed his eyes, welcoming unconsciousness. He was soon asleep against his headboard.

* * *

When Ron awoke again, it was to the sound of thunder cracking outside. He flinched and opened his eyes, groaning at the waking headache that always followed falling asleep crying. He chanced a glance outside the red cocoon of his bed curtains and found that it was indeed night. The bed beside Ron's was occupied with his sleeping best friend.

_Best friend._

Ron leaned back, slid his head down to his pillow, and shut his eyes again, rubbing his face with his hands.

Against his closed eyelids, a flash of pale, terrified skin and brown, bloodshot eyes.

He gasped and opened his eyes again, muffling his unavoidable cry with a hand to his mouth.

Was she a ghost now, haunting him?

"I'm sorry," he whispered through a sob as he stared up into the darkness. "I'm... so sorry..."

He felt his wand pressing against his back uncomfortably and he reached for it, pulling it out of his back pocket and holding it tight in his trembling hand, knuckles white. Shivering, he wrapped his arms around his own body, across his chest, hands at his shoulders.

He realized suddenly how ill he was, forehead coated in a light sweat, head pounding. He was a hot kind of cold, feverish if he thought about it. It was as if the simple memory of how Hermione had looked when he'd caught his first real, close up glimpse of her since their break up had infected him. That moment at the portrait hole... he craved the thought of it, and instead of doing what he knew he should, filing the memory away and never seeking it again, he focused everything on it.

And then, there they were... flashes of her naked, warm skin beneath his, the way she'd whisper his name as he touched her, and the feeling of her legs around his waist, his mattress at the Burrow beneath them... then a blood red sheet sliding over her perfect skin, caressing her, replacing silk with his own freckled hands, candlelight making her puffy lips glow redder than usual...

He closed his eyes as his wand pressed against his collarbone, arms tightly squeezing his own body, forcing him deeper into his dormitory mattress.

_I love you, Ron._

He sobbed freely, hearing the sounds he was making but somehow so violently separated from it, like listening to another man's torture through a thick stone wall.

And then, he was burning. He screamed, and his eyes popped open. Something wet and warm coated his right hand, and he squinted against sudden, seering pain.

"Ron!" he heard Harry shout, somewhere far away it seemed.

Ron moved his hand away from his shoulder... It was coated in blood. _His _blood. And so was his wand.

His bed curtains were ripped open and Harry stood over him, mouth open in shock as he took in the sight before him.

"Ron!" Harry flew to Ron's aid, removing his own shirt in a flash and pressing it to Ron's neck.

"AH!" Ron yelped as the contact of cotton against open wound jolted him fully back from memories and regrets to reality.

"What the hell did you do? !" Harry screamed as he tried to staunch the flow of blood by pressing harder.

Ron was too weak to bother contemplating the answer to Harry's question.

"Infirmary!" Ron heard someone shout. Neville. His head moved into view behind Harry's, eyes perfectly round.

"What's going on? !" Dean shouted, bed springs furiously squeaking all around Ron.

Ron closed his eyes. He might have been dying...

"Help me!" Harry screamed as Ron felt himself giving up more of his energy and will.

Arms encased him, something was wrapped tightly around his neck, almost choking him, and then he was on his feet, eyes opening far enough to take in the sight of the dormitory door looming in front of him. He moved his legs automatically as he was led towards the stairs. And then, blackness.

* * *

When Ron awoke, he was lying in the infirmary, something a bit less tight than before wrapped around his neck and another something pressed to his forehead. Blinking, a shirtless, pyjama clad Harry came into focus next to him.

"What's..." Ron started, attempting to move, but Harry shoved him - rather roughly, Ron thought - back against his pillows.

"You idiot," Harry muttered, eyes narrowed, though Ron was sure he could see the evidence of concerned strain and perhaps even a few tears shed...

Ron didn't bother to respond.

"You could have died, you know," Harry said. "Don't reckon you'd like to explain how you managed to curse yourself."

Now, Ron supposed he should say something... He opened his mouth, but Harry held up a hand.

"Don't tell me!" Harry half-shouted. "Was an accident, was it?"

Ron had the impression that Harry was completely unwilling to believe this, even if it was the truth. And it was!

"Don't reckon _I_ should bother telling you a damn thing. You've got it all figured out," Ron said with a sigh and some difficulty as he reached up to feel whatever was resting on his forehead. Something cold and wet, like a rag...

"Don't take that off," Harry warned. "You've got some kind of insane fever to go along with your _little scratch_ and Madame Pomfrey had to cool you in a bath of ice water. Saved your bloody life, you prat."

"How is it _my _fault? You think I gave myself a sodding fever? !" Ron was frustrated, tired, and everything ached. He wanted nothing less than to do this... this conversation.

Harry ran an annoyed hand over his own face.

"So I almost died?" Ron asked, and Harry glared at him. "Great. Well, certainly don't worry about me. I'm just splendid now. I'm sure I couldn't do with some sympathy-"

"Sympathy? !" Harry bellowed.

Ron flinched at the sound.

"Do you even understand what happened? ! Do you remember? !"

But before Ron could say a word, Harry held up Ron's wand with emphasis, still staring him down.

"You cursed yourself, sliced your own neck open. Now, please tell me, how does someone do something like that?" Harry asked, and Ron finally, _finally_, caught sight of something... terrified?... in Harry's eyes.

"I have no bloody idea," Ron said honestly. "I didn't mean to do it."

"Swear it," Harry demanded, lowering Ron's wand to the bedside table, hand actually shaking now.

"I swear! Harry, who do you think I am? !"

"Haven't got a clue anymore, have I," Harry said, voice wavering.

Ron sat up now, the rag on his forehead nearly falling off. He caught sight of Harry's mouth opening to scold him, but he reached up to steady the rag so quickly that Harry didn't get more than a vague grunt out.

"What do you want me to say? !" Ron shouted, truly hoping for some sort of answer, a direction.

"You think I wasn't worried? !" Harry asked softly, but no less frantically, the drastic change in his tone breaking through Ron's anger as he stared at his best mate.

"I didn't really mean-" Ron started quietly, but Harry interrupted him.

"I thought you might have been trying to kill yourself!" Harry admitted in a whisper.

"Blimey..."

"How was I supposed to know otherwise? I've been _so _worried, you know. Every day. Hell, Hermione-" Ron flinched and Harry ignored it "-looks effing terrible! And _you_..."

Ron waited for Harry's next words with his hand still pressed to his forehead, heart pounding from the mention of _her _name.

"Ron, just promise me that if you ever start to think about... you know... serious shit like..." Harry let out a ragged sigh, unable to complete his sentence.

"Harry, I'm not going to kill myself!" Ron said enthusiastically, realizing now how far this had gone. Harry had really feared that Ron might do himself in? ! Something about this knowledge woke Ron from the solitary pain he had been accepting and enduring without question. He wasn't the only one who was suffering after all. "I don't know what happened. Honestly. I was just there, in bed, and... and I thought of... _her_... and... then there was blood on my hand..."

Harry looked so pityingly at Ron that he had to glance away.

"It's fine," Harry said, and Ron was thoroughly relieved that Harry had dropped it for now.

Harry had been, after all, clearly trying to get Ron in a position to discuss his break up with Hermione for... well, since the day it had happened. Ron had been strictly avoiding Harry for this reason, and it was now, sitting here together where Harry really had a chance to do it properly, that Ron felt most grateful to his friend... reminding him just what it was that they had, what they would always have. If Ron had nothing else for the rest of his life, he'd always have Harry. And though there was a marriage document somewhere, existing peacefully, unaware of the havoc that it was wreaking inside of Ron, this link from Harry to Hermione could not undo the friendship he had come to count on more than he realized was possible. He needed Harry. And he had shut him out.

"Thanks," Ron finally said, and Harry nodded just as Madame Pomfrey emerged from her office to shuffle over to his bed.

"Mr. Weasley," she sighed, bags under her eyes from lack of sleep. "I need to change your bandage... and _this_..." She removed Ron's hand from his own forehead and stuffed the now-warm rag into her apron pocket.

"Do you need me?" Harry asked Ron.

"Yes," Ron finally admitted, to himself as much as to Harry, "but not right this second. Go to bed, Harry."

Harry sat staring at Ron for a moment longer, reading him carefully, doubt written in the creases of his concerned forehead. But with a small nod shared between them, Harry stood, broke eye contact, and turned as Madame Pomfrey began unwrapping the bandage from Ron's neck.

"Ron," Harry said, his back still towards Ron, though he had stopped in his tracks.

"Yeah?"

Harry glanced just barely over his own shoulder.

"You'll be okay," Harry said, and though Ron would never believe it, he somehow appreciated it.

Harry walked away without another word, and Ron sensed that Harry might have known his words were empty. A lie, really. Then why, Ron wondered, did it comfort him to hear them anyway?

"That should do it," Madame Pomfrey said, exhaustion evident in her strained voice. "Please get some rest," she added as she left Ron alone.

The cold sheets warmed slowly with his body heat as he settled back against his pillow again. With frozen fingertips, he gingerly touched the new bandages around his neck. His eyes fell on his wand where it sat unused on his bedside table.

A thin piece of blood stained willow. That was all he saw.

He was still alive. He knew... he knew because he could still feel. His chest still ached. And his heart was still irreparably broken.


	11. Giving In, Part 2

**Chapter 11 - Giving In, Part 2  
**  
**Two Days Later**  
_  
... let me know! ... lost blood ..._

Ron squeezed his eyes shut tighter in his half-sleep.

_... doesn't he want ... don't know what to do!_

He couldn't piece together the odd strings of words issuing forth in a familiar voice.

Shoes hit tile and faded out. He opened his eyes and blinked, the pink glow of sunrise a bit too bright for his unadjusted vision.

"Hey," he heard a scratchy voice say, and he thought there was a hint of guilt or fear perhaps laced neatly within that one short word.

"Morning," Ron mumbled as his eyes found Harry. And then, like an unexpected tidal wave, the voice he had heard before in his sleep became much sharper in his memory...

_Ron!_

He gasped and sat all the way up, eyes darting around the room, landing finally on the main door of the infirmary. It was still gliding shut.

"She was here? !"  
_  
_There was that guilt again, deeply set in Harry's eyes.

"Harry, answer me!"

"She wouldn't want you to know..." Harry mumbled.

"Well, that's you already telling me, isn't it!" Ron growled as he swung his legs out of bed.

"Where are you going?" Harry asked, panicking.

"I'm not going after her," Ron snapped. He ran a hand over his face and let out a frustrated groan. "I dream of her. Every single time I fall asleep," he admitted quietly. "It's been a bloody month and it's still as bad as the first night..."

"You know what I'm going to say," Harry said slowly.

"I do," Ron replied, "so don't bother."

Harry stared at Ron for a long moment before standing.

"I have class," he said, somewhat apologetically.

"Go on." Ron motioned towards the door. Harry paused, staring down at Ron.

"She says you can leave soon, Madame Pomfrey," Harry said as he adjusted his bag on his shoulder.

Ron nodded. Harry turned and walked away.

So Hermione had been there, right next to him. But why?

He felt an uninvited flutter rise up from his stomach to his heart, on up into his throat. He wasn't supposed to be glad. This wasn't part of the plan...

His lips twitched. He smiled as he stood to go to the loo. But his stomach sunk as he considered the strange circumstance of smiling about anything. This was wrong, terrible. He had to be okay with not being with her! He'd destroyed what he wanted, burned a bridge he couldn't rebuild... _could he?_ !

"No!" he shouted under his breath as he reached the loo. This was so wrong.

Yet, though he wished nothing more all day than to stop thinking of her, he couldn't help the sharp intake of breath and skipping of his heart every time the infirmary door opened, hoping it was her. There was a nagging part in the back of his mind that begged for it, that would do anything for her to walk through the door towards him now. But logically, in his words and his actions, as he'd trained himself to do, he cast all longing aside resolutely. He'd made the mess. Now he had to learn to deal with it.

By nightfall, he'd given up the idea of seeing her and settled into his bed, happy for the cold silence the ward offered him.

Madame Pomfrey let him return to his dormitory the next day. A shame. He had been alone in the infirmary, alone and separate. He could exist in another world there, a place removed from what he had done.

But time moved forward, dragging him with it. And though it would not heal him, he had no choice but to face its passage...  
**  
One Week Later**

Hermione wasn't answering questions. She wasn't asking them either. He never had to see her hand raise out of the corner of his eye, never had to look over automatically while she spoke, never even had to hear her voice.

It was as if... she no longer existed. He hadn't run into her since the night before his accident, and though he was sure she had come to visit him in the infirmary, he could even set aside the chance that it meant anything, or at least blind himself intentionally to the fact that it _might_.

The common room was full. Ron sat in his usual chair, staring blankly at his Potions book. He'd hardly gotten a single thing done since he had ended things with her. It was impossible to pretend like he cared. He couldn't pay attention long enough to write even a paragraph for any of his essays. He had been rubbish at Quidditch practice too, only going because he couldn't think of an excuse not to go that wouldn't make people suspicious. After all, no one knew about his affair with Hermione... no one except Harry and probably Ginny, though she had been kind enough not to mention it.

Ron noticed, as the common room began to clear out, that Harry seemed very distracted. He was watching people closely, almost anxiously, as they came and went. And slowly, one by one, nearly everyone had disappeared up the stairs to the dormitories. Ron stood, collected his things, and began to pack his bag to head up as well, not bothering to tell Harry that he was going to bed. But Harry got up quickly from his chair to stop Ron.

"Ron," he began. "I wanted to ask you, um..." -there was that desperate look Ron had seen crossing Harry's face all night- "I'm having some trouble with an essay. Do you think you could stick around for a bit and help me out with it?"

Ron stared forward at Harry, his eyes heavy. He didn't feel at all like helping Harry with an essay, but he had a weird feeling that this was not actually what Harry wanted to talk about. So he nodded and sat back down. Maybe this was going to be it...

They sat in silence, Harry shuffling through his papers. He appeared to be looking for something, Ron assumed it was the essay, but Harry was taking much too long about it, purposefully drawing it out. It was now becoming obvious that Harry was definitely _not_ looking for an essay at all, but was simply waiting for the common room to clear out so that they could talk freely. So, Ron sat back and waited as the last few people headed upstairs to bed. Then, finally, when the common room had grown completely silent, Harry dropped the papers he had been clumsily shuffling, and turned to face Ron.

"We need to talk," Harry began. He gave Ron an apologetic look, then added, "about Hermione."

"No, we don't," Ron said quickly, standing instantly from his chair and picking up his things again in a rush.

"Ron, please," Harry begged, standing up too, facing Ron.

"Harry, don't make this any harder..."

"It doesn't have to be!"

"I don't want to think about what I did to her. When I see her, I feel like I'm going to die."

"Then fix it," Harry said quietly.

"All I want is to be with her, but I'm doing this for _her_, Harry! I did everything for her! But now I see how much I've hurt her and I... I can't stand to see that. I don't know if I want to see her if I can't make her happy."

"But you can!" Harry insisted. "That's exactly what you were doing before you told her it was over!"

"No, it wasn't!" Ron shouted, dropping his books to the floor in frustration. "She wasn't happy! She wanted things to be different-"

"But if you can't change it, what else is there to do? !"

"She's married to you, mate," Ron retorted in a harsh voice. "Why don't _you _go cheer her up?"

"Because she doesn't want me, you prat! She wants you!" Harry hissed.

Ron couldn't hear this. Not now. He would crack, he was sure of it. He had to get away from Harry-

"Why, Ron?" Harry asked. "She never asked for this."

But first, Ron had to explain. If Harry couldn't understand, this would never end.

"Try to stop being you and think about this from my perspective!" Ron said harshly.

Harry paused, breathing as he stared into Ron's glistening eyes.

"We're on fucking thin ice with the Ministry," Ron said under his breath.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked with furrowed eyebrows. "I thought you said they believed you, when they conducted all those interviews."

"Haven't you noticed?" Ron asked, but when Harry shook his head very slightly, it became clear that Harry _hadn't_ noticed and really had no clue what Ron was referring to... "Other students... watching us..."

"What are you on about?" Harry asked slowly.

"I think they've got people spying on us, Harry!" Ron whispered thickly.

Harry's eyes widened.

"They don't trust you. They need to find a way to nullify what you did. They... I think they'd do anything to make that happen," Ron finished, voice low and scratchy.

Harry stared, speechless at Ron. Ron knew that Harry couldn't argue this point...

"Think about what you did, Harry," Ron continued. "You married her so you could protect her, yeah?"

Harry nodded slowly, somewhat defeated.

"Well, I say you're doing a piss poor job if you're asking me to get back together with her!" Ron whispered.

For a long moment, they stood eye to eye, chests moving as they breathed in the truth of Ron's words. But finally, Harry shook his head once, and Ron shuddered involuntarily, like a window had been opened, letting in a cold draft. Some subconscious desire forced more meaning into Harry's slight gesture than was rational... But then, he spoke.

"You're not thinking of the one important thing in all of this..." Harry said slowly, stepping closer to Ron, closing the distance between them to allow for lower voices in case someone was within earshot, and to, Ron knew, enter Ron's personal space, encasing himself within the boundaries Ron had tried to set, rendering them useless.

"What?" Ron whispered, ashamed at the desperation he heard in his own voice.

"Appearances," Harry said simply. "Imagine you're a Ministry spy. You'd see Hermione walking the halls, a stone lighter, skin much paler than usual, never sitting with me at a meal or in a class, disappearing by herself every night..."

Ron swallowed, trying to dislodge the lump in his throat.

"And you'd think 'Harry Potter isn't making her happy,'" Harry whispered.

If he squinted, Ron could see where this was possibly headed, so he kept his eyes open wide, unable to cope if he had to face another choice... He'd make the wrong one! He wasn't capable of saying no... not again. He'd done that already, hadn't he? ! He'd come so far, turned his back on his own heart...

"Now think about a few months ago, when you'd... go with her on rounds and shag her-"

Ron's blush was instantaneous. Harry _knew_? ! And why did Ron feel an ounce of pride in _knowing _that Harry knew this?

"-and then she'd smile at me the next day at breakfast, sit next to me looking brilliant and healthy..."

"Please, Harry..." Ron begged weakly.

Could he really admit that the battle was already won? He was clinging on to something that was crumbling underneath his fingertips with each of Harry's words...

"Now think, you're watching her with me and you'd think we were happy, that it was real after all, because it _is_ real!"

Harry breathed deeply as Ron's hands shook, eyes wet.

"...it's just not real with _me_," Harry finished.

Ron's next breath was released with a strangled cry as he forced himself to remain steady.

"Do you still love her?" Harry asked in a whisper.

"Fucking hell, Harry! What kind of a question is that? !" Ron whispered back.

"Just say it," Harry requested.

"God, Harry," Ron breathed, "I love her more than anything else in the world and I'd fucking _kill _myself if it meant she'd be alright."

At Ron's last words there was a thud from upstairs on the girls' side. Ron and Harry both turned quickly towards the staircase, their eyes wide.

"Who's there?" Harry called out, but no one answered.

As they both stood in silence staring up at the landing above the first flight of stairs to the girl's dormitories, there was a flash of fluffy hair as someone darted out from behind one pillar to hide behind the next.

"Hey! Who's up there? !" Harry demanded, moving forward, hoping to get a better look from another angle.

But in the silence, Ron and Harry could hear the distinct sound of someone suppressing a sob, and Ron's eyes widened. Everything stopped.

"Hermione..." he whispered, not sure if he wanted her to hear him say her name.

But as soon as Ron had questioned it, it became too obvious that it _was_ her.

"Hermione!" Harry called up towards the landing. "Please... come down!"

There was no more movement, no more sound. Ron clutched Harry's arm tightly, squeezing as tears finally fell from his eyes as he refused to even blink. She couldn't come down... no!

Why was there no longer anything to cling to that could save him? He was holding onto Harry for dear life, but Harry was leading him in the wrong direction, away from what he had decided was right. Right?

Why did this 'right' look so unfamiliar?

"Ron," Harry pleaded, turning to glance at Ron.

"What are you doing?" Ron whispered slowly to Harry, weakened to the point of near exhaustion merely from their conversation.

"Saving you both," Harry said with insistent eye contact.

"You have to protect her," Ron whispered through a silent sob.

"Always."

"Stop me, Harry, because I can't..." Ron started, but Harry shook his head.

It was over. If she still wanted him... it was over.

"H-Hermione?" Ron called, voice shaky and terrified, hand still clenched around Harry's forearm.

There was a quiet sob from the landing, and, hardly aware of what he was doing, Ron finally dropped Harry's arm and reached down into his shirt, pulling his chain out, revealing _two_ rings now on his own chain... hers and his. Harry stared, stunned, as Ron clutched the rings in his hand.

"N-never took it off," Ron said, realizing she probably couldn't see what he was doing, couldn't know what he meant.

The dying fire crackled behind them, and the room seemed to fall into a deeper darkness, perfect for clouding an old secret that was so close to becoming a secret again...

"D-did you hear everything we said?" Ron asked tentatively, expecting no answer.

There was a shuffle from the landing, and he held his breath waiting, but he still couldn't see her.

"Please, talk to me..." His voice wavered as he begged her.

Silence.

Had he hurt her too much, ruined everything she thought had been perfect by leaving her when all she wanted was to be with him? Was he really lucky enough, could he really accept that he _was _enough, no matter how much they had to risk and go through to be together? Was it worth it to her still, after all he'd done?

"If... if you still want me... I'll..." This was it. And he couldn't say it.

"You lied to me." Her broken voice came to him as if through the walls themselves, seeping into his veins, raising the hairs on the back of his neck.

"I-I'm so s-sorry," he cried, blinking into the darkness above, glowing embers from the fire reflecting orange off the surfaces of the stone pillars that framed the dark shadow she had chosen as a hiding spot. "You're b-better without me."

"And now you're lying to yourself," she whispered, voice cracking.

He let her words sink down to his bones. Is _that_ what he'd been doing all this time?

"Tell me you still love me, that you still want this, and I'll never... I'll _never _leave you again," Ron finally cried.

When he heard nothing in reply, his heart ached. Perhaps she couldn't do it...

...or maybe she just couldn't _say _it. Was she still afraid? If he really still had her heart, he could still break it...

...which meant he could still fix it, too!

Trembling, he knew what he had to say.

"If you want me, come down. I'll never stop waiting..."

He stepped forward and disappeared into the shadow of the alcove at the bottom of the girls' staircase, just around the corner. Heart pounding loudly in his ears, he waited. From this place, he could see Harry standing there in the middle of the common room, eyes wide as he tried to see Hermione above or Ron below, but Ron sensed that Harry could no longer see him either.

It felt like years.

And then, he was sure he had fallen asleep against the wall, was dreaming what he knew he could never really have... because it was too good to be true.

Footsteps, coming down the spiral stairs... closer, closer... agonizingly slow.

His eyes were two round glass spheres of blue and black and white as he stood in the dark, the curved wall of the staircase wall in his sights at the very bottom, the last chance for her to change her mind.

She was there, just around the corner, just inches out of his reach. He. knew. it.

If the wall to his left had not been there, he could have leaned to the side and been resting against her shoulder without having to unplant his feet from their current spots on the floor. He felt her presence intensely. Every single hair on his body stood up on end. His skin burned from anticipation.

His lips parted.

And everything happened at once.

She emerged, but he couldn't comprehend it before she had rounded the corner and leapt into his arms, clinging desperately to him, so tightly that he lost his breath. He suddenly weighed more than usual, felt warmer than usual... was using his bloody arms again!

He let out a relieved sob as he clung to her, burying his face in her hair.

"Do you mean it? !" she sobbed into his neck.

"Yes! YES! I mean it!" he cried.

She laughed and cried at the same time. He closed his eyes and tried to suck air into his lungs through her embrace.

"You arse! You _couldn't_ have waited down here forever," she said, referencing his vow to never stop waiting. "You have class in the morning!"

Ron burst out laughing, arms moving to get a better grip on Hermione, to ensure he remained able to hold her off the ground without letting her slip down.

But before Ron could control himself, Harry appeared just out of reach, looking in at them both with a relieved smile.

"I'll just nip upstairs and get the you-know-what," Harry said.

"Herm-" Ron began, but she pulled back from him and dropped to the floor, wiping furiously at her wet face.

"Ron, don't you _dare _even _ask _me if I want to go with you! Harry, please..." she finished with a huff.

Harry laughed and left them to it, taking the stairs up to the boys' side with haste.

"And... d-don't you ever - _ever_! - do that to me again!" Hermione glared up at Ron, breathing too heavily, dressing gown falling open slowly to reveal her tight silk top underneath.

"Pretty sure it would kill me to have to," Ron sighed, tugging Hermione closer against him again so she had to stretch her neck back to see his face.

"And..." Hermione continued. Ron grinned wider than he had in over a month.

"And?" he repeated. He could hardly wait to hear her next demand.

"You aren't allowed to leave the Room of Requirement until dawn."

"Hermione," Ron said as he moved one hand up to her cheek, "you're making this so damn easy for me."

She tugged his head down before he could say another word, and her lips met his as he closed his eyes again.

He remembered, suddenly, a word he had forgotten...

Happiness.


	12. Happiness, Part 1

**Chapter 12 – Happiness, Part 1**

She unattached her lips from his and he waited, as her hot breath cascaded over his wet lips, for her to speak. He felt her slight intake of breath before she began.

"We should get clothes, for tomorrow..." she very nearly panted.

He smiled and opened his eyes a fraction, looking down into her flushed face, head bent low.

"Good idea," he whispered back.

"Meet back here, but hurry!" she breathed harshly against his skin as she pulled back further.

He knew he needed to move, but his arms were too comfortable around her, and he couldn't pry them away. She giggled.

"Ron, let me go."

He grinned and released her.

"Don't be long," she smiled as she backed away from him, hand on the wall to guide her around the corner as her eyes remained glued to his. Her heels hit the bottom stair and she stopped abruptly, blushing and still grinning.

"Race you," Ron whispered, and then he turned away and sprinted to the boys' staircase, listening to the insistent pounding of Hermione's feet hitting the stairs as she climbed rapidly in the other direction. His face nearly split as he smiled, taking the steps three at a time.

"Hey!" Harry hissed as Ron barreled into him around a curve. But Ron caught Harry around the waist, preventing either of them from falling.

"Got the cloak?" Ron panted as he released a still startled looking Harry.

Harry handed him the balled up material and Ron took it with a nod.

"Thanks," Ron said before passing Harry at a run. He had to slow down outside the dormitory door for fear of waking someone and having to answer questions...

It took him less than a minute to gather his clothes and toothbrush, and at the last moment, he had a delightful thought... Reaching into his trunk, he removed Hermione's old chain and put it in his pocket, imagining it around her neck again, where it belonged.

Harry re-entered the room just before Ron reached the door to exit.

"I'll thank you properly later," Ron whispered as he stopped for a moment, inches from Harry. Harry raised his eyebrows.

"You aren't going to snog me, are you?" Harry asked, trying not to grin.

Ron punched Harry's shoulder.

"Prat," Ron said as he passed Harry, taking the steps back down to the common room with slightly more care, trying not to wake the whole tower. But when he turned around the last curve, he spotted Hermione leaning against the couch, a small bag in her right hand and a smug look on her face.

"Well, someone took their time," she whispered casually as she pushed away from the couch.

Ron opened the invisibility cloak and grinned down at her as he stepped closer... closer... Her breathing became shallower, a sign of growing desire that he happily recognized as she watched him, lips parting slowly.

"I guess this means you win," he breathed as he lifted the cloak over them both, checking their feet and weaving his fingers into hers.

"Yes... it does..." she said automatically, breathless already as he studied her dark eyes, hardly believing where he was now.

"Let's go," he said, tugging her hand, eager to leave Gryffindor Tower behind them.

They walked in silence through the castle halls, ducking behind tapestries to take all the short cuts. But, abruptly, Hermione stopped, halfway down the fifth floor corridor.

"What's up?" Ron mouthed down at her, confused. She bit her lip.

"Have you had a bath?"

"No," Ron answered, eyebrows furrowed. But following her eye line, he caught on. He shivered. They'd never done that before... was she _really _asking...? ! "H-have you?" he managed, his voice markedly unsteady now.

She shook her head, still biting her lip, and looked up into his eyes.

He raised his eyebrows, accepting her invitation, if she was really, miraculously, offering one to him. And by the tug of his hand, her tiny feet leading them past the statue of Boris the Bewildered, the invitation had been most assuredly handed out.

"Sanctum," Hermione whispered. Surprised by the new password, Ron followed her inside the Prefect's bathroom, waiting as she closed and locked the door before removing the cloak from them both.

"When were you going to tell me you'd changed the password?" Ron asked as he tossed his things onto a nearby bench.

"We weren't speaking, were we," Hermione said sensibly, not meeting his eyes. Instead, she muttered a series of spells aimed at the door, and something seemed to intensify, almost like the sound that the silence itself had made in the corridor outside had just grown louder... though Ron couldn't make sense of it. "I was going to ask another Prefect to let you know, but I honestly forgot... just changed it this morning," Hermione finished.

But, distracted by Hermione's spellwork, Ron moved on to another line of questioning.

"What's that you're doing?"

She finished her work, pocketed her wand and smiled at him.

"This way we can hear if someone's coming. I just created a sort of one-way amplification. We'll be able to hear even the softest footsteps halfway down the hall, but no one can hear us at all... and they can't get in, not unless I reverse the Imperturbable charm-"

"Fucking genius..." Ron muttered, awed.

Hermione raised her eyebrows playfully, though she flushed with pride as she dropped her own things onto the bench next to Ron's.

"When did you come up with all that?" Ron asked, totally impressed.

Hermione shrugged.

"I was working on a lot of things to... _help _us... before you... well..." She shrugged and looked away from him again.

He closed his eyes for a brief second and stopped himself from swearing. He'd really been so very wrong after all... should have never left her. But she brushed past him and he opened his eyes again, following her path towards the large tub across the room. She walked around the edge, turning handle after handle, and with a pleasant sounding gush, the tub began to fill from the faucets in the center, various colored soaps and bubbles flowing in together. Ron walked over and investigated a few lesser used taps, turning them on and testing the results. Hermione watched as he raised his eyebrows - pink mist was now issuing gently from one of the taps Ron had just turned on.

"This is new," he commented, looking to Hermione for confirmation.

"Yes, well, two of the Ravenclaw Prefects designed it for... Valentine's Day." She wrinkled up her nose.

"Wait..." Ron paused and considered the date. "Wow! That's Saturday, isn't it?"

Hermione nodded.

"Hogsmeade weekend and everything, yeah?" He hadn't even noticed, being too preoccupied with heartbreak. What was the point in a holiday to celebrate happiness and love when he'd thought he had none in his life?

"Right," Hermione said slowly.

"I've got strange timing, haven't I..." Ron muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

"You could say that."

They remained standing several feet apart, staring at each other as the tub filled, the pink mist hovering over the water, clouding the air above it and emitting a rather pleasant cherry aroma. But through the nervousness, the renewed awkwardness at being alone together again at last, Ron could feel the pull of aching desire, something he'd had to force himself to forget. It was so familiar, the feeling of being unable, and _unwilling_, to pull away from it.

"You first," Hermione said breathlessly, motioning vaguely towards the tub.

"Why me?" Ron asked, goosebumps rising on his forearms as he imagined stripping in front of her.

"Because you owe me."

She was right. Damn. He'd never _stop _owing her either, which meant she could really get him to do anything she wanted... There was a part of him that delighted in the prospect and yet another part that hoped she never found out how far her control over him really went...

Unable to speak, Ron simply nodded, and, starting with his shirt, he began to remove his clothing, piece by piece. He finally reached his boxers, trembling slightly from excitement and nerves as well as newly exposed skin to cool air. He glanced at Hermione and found her watching him with parted lips. Turning away, he stripped off his boxers and moved directly to the steps into the tub, not giving himself time to think about her eyes on his back as he went. The tub was full now, and he stepped all the way in, until the surface of the steamy water rested near his belly button. At least the heat of the water would mask his blush.

By the time he turned back towards Hermione, she had stripped down to her bra and knickers and was working at her bra clasp, hands behind her back, head down, not looking at Ron at all... in fact, it occurred to him that she was purposefully avoiding his gaze. His heart fluttered with anticipation as she finally managed to undo the clasp, but she turned her back towards him before he got a glimpse of much. Pink fog puffed into his face just before she began sliding her knickers off her hips, and he was suddenly unable to see much. Alarmed by how quickly the thick fog had filled the air above the water, Ron turned in a slow circle, eyebrows raised. He was completely encased now in the gentle cherry warmth of the near opaque fog.

He heard a sloshing somewhere to his left and turned towards the sound, waving a hand side to side in front of his face in an attempt to clear away the fog, but it was persistent.

"This stuff is mental!" he exclaimed, and almost immediately, the sloshing resumed, headed straight for him. After a moment, the sloshing paused again.

"Keep talking," came Hermione's voice from out of sight. "I can't see where you are."

But, as Ron pinpointed the location where Hermione must be standing, waiting, he had a better idea. Grinning broadly, he took a silent breath and slipped slowly, completely, beneath the surface of the water, pushing off the bottom of the tub and opening his eyes, blinking as his eyes adjusted to looking through the thick water. It burned a bit, but he could see a blurry flesh colored blob dead ahead, a blob that he knew to be Hermione. He swam towards her, submerged underwater, careful not to disturb the surface... and, stretching out his arms, he grabbed her around the thighs. He heard her squeal, the sound muffled by the fact that his ears were still submerged as she squirmed in his arms. Laughing underwater, bubbles formed and floated upward, but, eyes still open, he suddenly realized exactly where his head now was, pressed tightly to her, just below her belly, arms firmly planted around her thighs as she continued to squeal and struggle, hands on his shoulders.

A wave of excited shivers coursed through him as he finally broke the surface again, arms sliding up Hermione's silky body to rest around her waist as he laughed, sucking in air.

"Ron!" she shouted with indignation.

He couldn't stop grinning at her, though he had a feeling that he should, from the look on her face. Her bottom lip was a bit pouty, her eyes narrowed... and her cheeks were so beautifully flushed.

He found that he could no longer breathe with much regularity.

And nevermind... he didn't want to give her a reason to _stop _looking at him like that.

"This mist stuff is brilliant," Ron commented, cheeks flushed as he waited for Hermione to swat him or berate him verbally for his sudden attack moments earlier.

"A moment ago you called it mental," she stated, eyes still narrowed.

He shrugged and she huffed in his arms.

But before he could consider what she might say next, she shook her head slightly, as if deciding upon her next move without approving of it herself, and she launched herself completely against him, lips tightly pressed to his. With a muffled 'oomph!' Ron kissed her back enthusiastically, knees bent lightly underwater to make himself even with her.

Her hands smoothed down his wet cheeks, through his dripping hair... his hands occupied themselves with traveling hungrily up her bare, slick back... her chest tight against his, water pooling above her breasts to rest against his own chest, a warm pocket of soapy bubbles brushing through his chest hair delightfully.

But then she pulled back abruptly, startling Ron's eyes open as his hands were suddenly unoccupied, floating through the water where Hermione had just been. He caught the back of her head disappearing into the fog in front of him.

Grinning, he dived after her, splashing comically this time as he ripped through the water, body cutting a thick path as he tried to catch up to her. She shrieked somewhere to his left as he waved the fog with one arm, pushing himself through the bubbles with the other.

"I'm going to find you," Ron announced, voice low, trying to sound menacing.

She giggled to his right. How had she moved so fast? ! He changed course instantly, finally breathing deeply and sinking completely beneath the water again, opening his eyes to locate her. But he jolted back when he caught her eyes on him too, head submerged, hair floating gloriously around her head and shoulders. Though he couldn't make out much detail, he grinned under the water as he watched her watching him. With a push off the bottom of the tub, he was wrapped around her again, twisting bodies sliding together through the smooth water. They emerged together and Hermione laughed as she panted to catch her breath. But Ron cut her mirth short with a fierce kiss.

She pushed hard against him, lips still attached to his, tongue slipping into his mouth as she forced him back, back...

He clung to her as she wrapped her legs around his waist, and before he could separate from her for a breath, he felt his back hit something solid. He sucked his lips away from hers and she reattached her lips to his ear as he investigated his current placement... against the wall of the tub.

"How... how did you stand it?" Hermione breathed against his wet skin, lips moving in open-mouthed kisses along his jaw now.

"St-stand what?" he choked out, fingers digging into her hips.

"Not doing this..." she mumbled as she kissed her way up his cheek, lips touching the corner of his.

"Oh, _fuck_, I don't... know..." he moaned as she tightened her legs around him.

Suddenly, Hermione's hands were on his, pulling them off her and lifting. Ron bent his elbows as she raised his hands up above his shoulders, moving until she was grasping his wrists in her fists. She tilted her head back, level with his, inches away.

"You are an arsehole and I hate you so much," Hermione breathed, her lips parted and swollen as she stared into his eyes.

"I'm sorry-"

"AND..." she continued, letting out a frustrated puff of air, "I love you more than anything. Which is probably why I hate you."

Ron grinned.

"Logical," he said with a nod.

She squeezed his wrists tighter in warning and he felt his stomach flip over with excitement.

"You left me because you thought it was best for me," Hermione stated, and Ron stared guiltily back at her. She didn't need his confirmation. "And you didn't give me a say."

He lowered his eyes from hers, focusing on the curve of her neck instead. Excitement was now simply replaced with regret.

"Hermione-" but she cut him off.

"You can't do that, Ron!" He voice cracked and threatened to break, but she lifted her chin a fraction and remained in control. He met her eyes again. "I really started to believe... to wonder... if maybe you really didn't love me and-"

"I wanted you to believe it!" Ron interrupted quietly, but insistently. "I really thought if you believed that... then you wouldn't want me. I thought it was the only way to give you everything. You needed more than what we had!"

"I didn't! I don't!" she shouted, squeezing his wrists still tighter, and it suddenly occurred to him just how bizarre of a place this was for an argument. Her legs were still around his waist, torsos half touching, naked skin pressed together in sensitive locations, locations that were now confused about the intended purpose of their being here in this predicament together... They were half underwater, lightweight, and Hermione was restraining Ron's hands from... who knew what.

"I don't know why we're rowing," Ron finally said. "I don't want to argue what I thought before. There's no point because it's not what I think anymore. I was wrong. I know that now. You and Harry... you showed me."

"What's to stop you from doing it again?" Hermione said in a tiny voice, eyes still blazing with intensity, lips still slightly swollen from the heat and their kisses.

"I don't want to promise you anything," Ron finally said, "because it wouldn't mean much now. I want to ask you to trust me... but I don't know if that's fair."

"It's not," Hermione stated frankly.

"Then what can I do?" Ron asked, helplessly.

"It's _not _fair," Hermione said slowly, "but that doesn't mean I _don't_ trust you. I _shouldn't_ trust you. But..."

She was not ready to complete that sentence, and instead of speaking again, she leaned into him and kissed him softly. He closed his eyes, hands still next to his ears, Hermione's fingers wrapped securely around his wrists. When she pulled away a fraction of an inch, he breathed against her.

"Tell me what you want. I'll do anything you ask."

"That's the idea," Hermione whispered. She slid her hands up into his and laced their fingers together. "This is enough for me, Ron. So much more than enough. It always will be. Do you believe me?"

She slipped down his body so slightly, but the affect was immediate. His muscles tightened in preparation of impending pleasure, and she allowed him to slide his hands to her forearms, around her shoulder blades. He swallowed hard.

"Yes, I believe you."

Hermione's trembling index finger followed the path of the chain around his neck, stopping when she reached their two rings, hanging together in the middle of his chest. But she stopped suddenly, eyes moving up again. She touched his neck, running her finger so softly over his tender skin. Ron realized what she was doing, what she had discovered, but before he could open his mouth to comment, she closed her mouth around his again, teeth grazing together as her hands weaved tightly into his hair. She tugged, and he replaced his hands on her hips. He was suddenly burning, a fire alight in his chest, pleasure coursing through his veins as she clung tightly to him, tongue sliding over his. His left arm tightened and moved all the way around her waist while his right hand planted itself on her hips, joining them with the force of his pull. She pulled back with a gasp and a moan, staring deeply into his eyes as he allowed her to do most of the work within his tight embrace. Foreheads an inch apart, their eyes locked as they moved together, and he felt near the edge of something, like he was reaching out to touch her soul through her gaze, and she was inviting him in, beckoning him closer.

The glossy water slid between their bodies, pink fog around their heads, filling their nostrils with the scent of cherry and soap and skin and something they had missed more than anything.

"Ron..." Hermione breathed, almost a plea as he flattened one large hand against her smooth back.

He tried to sigh her name, but it came out as a breathless moan, his hand moving up to grasp the back of her neck and pull her forehead firmly against his. Water swaying slightly, small waves coursing around them, they remained frozen together for a long moment afterwards, chests pressing tight with each shuddering breath. Hermione hugged him tightly around the shoulders and lowered her head to his neck, kissing the spot she'd touched earlier.

"Does it still hurt?" she asked shakily as she pulled back again, staring at the red scar that had, until very recently, been quite a significant gash.

"Not so much," Ron whispered. "You came to see me, in the infirmary."

She nodded.

"When Harry first told me, I went outside and... and..." Her eyes filled with tears. He placed a hand softly against her cheek. "I ran away from him the moment he told me. I thought I'd end up in the infirmary, when I first started to run, but then suddenly, I was outside. I don't remember getting there. I just stood there in the rain, screaming. I couldn't get my breath. And Harry came and found me."

Ron felt overwhelmed by her admission, like he could feel her devastation through the water between them now, through the tingle of her soft skin against his own. She slid her legs out from around him and dropped to the tub floor, water just up to the bottom edge of her breasts, fog framing her head as she wiped her tears away uselessly with a soapy hand. A smear of bubbles stuck to her cheek and Ron reached up automatically to wipe it away. But he only added more bubbles to her face in the process. He shrugged vaguely and she smiled, placing both palms against his chest.

"Why is it," she sighed, "that you always choose the worst possible times to almost die?"

Ron stared, shocked but nearly amused, into her sad eyes.

"Don't think I'd call it _choosing _anything," he said with the hint of a grin.

"When we were rowing in third year and Sirius dragged you down under the Whomping Willow," Hermione began, "and... and last year, getting yourself poisoned on your bloody _birthday _while you were still snogging Lavender and pretending I didn't exist."

"Pretending you didn't exist?" Ron repeated, raising his eyebrows.

Hermione shrugged now, fingers moving absentmindedly across his chest, mingling thick layers of soap bubbles with soft ginger hairs.

"Maybe I was, in a way," Ron admitted, "but only because I thought you hated me. I know how I act doesn't really... reflect how I feel... all of the time..."

Hermione nodded with approving eyes.

"But you were just as pissy with me," Ron pointed out.

Hermione slid her arms under Ron's, pulling herself against him fully again as she sighed.

"I love you," she said softly, taking Ron by surprise.

"What'd you say that for?" he asked, heart beating against her chest with increasing rapidity.

"Because I _do_," she replied simply, looking up at him, eyes on his as she waited.

He smiled contentedly, lazily, as she drifted in his arms, weight supported by the buoyancy of their bath.

"I love _you_, Hermione," he breathed. She smiled so happily, peacefully as she rested her forehead against his cheek. But the moment was suddenly charged, and she pushed back from him, grinning. He raised his eyebrows, delighted as something stirred in her, beneath the haze of steam and mist and love...

She allowed her body to float slowly back away from Ron, eyes still on his as she drifted.

"You'll do anything I say, whatever I ask?" she questioned, though it was clear from her tone that even if Ron didn't intend to agree, it wouldn't stop her. Fortunately, there wasn't much else he'd rather do at the moment than let Hermione boss him around...

"Anything," he said.

"I've got an idea..." she trailed off, biting her lip.

"What?" he asked, blood running hot as he considered the possibilities.

"First," she began, using the tone of voice she reserved for moments when she took charge of a plan or a task, listing the proper order of things with authority. Ron shivered with pleasure as she continued... "wash up, drain the tub, and get dry."

Ron nodded once as Hermione slipped too deep into the fog for him to follow her with his eyes. He heard her splashing, though his body was frozen from the aftermath of making love, the sweet fumes of the Valentine's Day fog, and the heat and steam swirling with the frothy bubbles on the surface of the water.

Finally, he pulled himself out of his trance and ducked his head underwater, scrubbing bubbles everywhere until he deemed himself clean enough. When he finished, he heard the sound of little wet feet hitting tile, echoing vaguely from somewhere to his right. He pushed through the fog in the direction of the sound, but he soon found himself face to face with the circle of faucets set in the center of the tub. Reaching down, he located the lever to release the water from the tub, and with a loud clunk, water, bubbles and fog alike began to swirl and vanish rapidly. Within moments, he could see over the top of the dissipating fog, could see Hermione toweling her hair dry, fully dressed once more. He pushed his way through the shallow water, climbed up the stairs, and wrapped a towel around his waist quickly, feeling Hermione's eyes on him again as he turned to face her, water dripping from his shoulders, hair and chest.

"Now what?" he asked her, grinning lopsidedly.

"Get dressed and come with-" but Hermione was cut short by the distinct sound of footsteps, loud and echoing within the confines of the bathroom, as if coming from somewhere near the stalls they stood so close to.

"Someone's in the hall," Hermione whispered, taking in Ron's frantic expression.

She glided as silently as possible over to the bathroom door, ready to remove her charms if the person on the other side attempted to come in. It would be too suspicious for them to find the doorway blocked and locked. She motioned for Ron to hurry, and he dressed, abandoning any remaining embarrassment over standing naked before the girl who hadn't seen him such in over a month before tonight, and as he kicked his legs free of the bottom hem of his trousers, he stumbled his way over to her, picking up the cloak and both of their small bags from the bench near the door. He slipped the cloak over both of their heads, checked their feet, and in tense silence, they waited. The footsteps grew louder, louder... Ron glanced nervously over his shoulder towards the bath tub, crossing his fingers that it had emptied completely and would show no signs of anyone having used it recently if the person on the other side of the door did indeed intend to come in.

But, finally, the footsteps began to fade away again, and Ron and Hermione let out two nearly identical sighs of relief.

"Well, I might have fallen straight into bed and slept until noon tomorrow after... ya know..." he motioned towards the tub, neck red but grinning, "but after all _that_," he motioned towards the door this time, "you can just have your way with me. I'm wide awake."

Hermione blushed brilliantly as she leaned against Ron.

"So uh," Ron said, clearing his throat as his own embarrassment finally broke through the adrenaline rush of nearly being walked in on, "what's the next part of your plan?"

Hermione bit her lip, not meeting Ron's eyes as he tried to look down at her.

"Where's your tie?" she asked, completely throwing Ron off. He hadn't bothered to put it back on after reemerging from the tub, but had simply tucked it into his trouser pocket.

"I've got it in my pocket, but wha-"

"To the Room of Requirement, then," Hermione said as she took Ron's arm, guiding him to the door.

"Are you going to explain-"

"No," Hermione said, cutting him off as she removed the enchantments from the door and pocketed her wand. "You'll know soon enough."

And looking down at her, he caught the corners of her mouth turning up into a smirk.

Now... if only he could remember why he'd let her go, why he'd thought he needed to break her heart and lock his own away.

"You know how you can know I'll never do it again?" Ron said, wondering after he'd spoken if she'd be able to tell what he meant by his vague words. But she didn't hesitate in her reply.

"How?"

"I'll never stop loving you, no matter what, so if you think I have, either you've gone mental, I've gone mental, or both. It'll never happen. Hell will freeze over first."

"And just think," Hermione said, grinning, eyes watering as she looked up into Ron's, arms still linked, "I once thought you could _never _feel for me what I felt for you."

"That settles it. We were both mental from the start," Ron said, grinning back at her. "Now, let's get walking so you can show me what you want from me."

Something reignited in Hermione's eyes and Ron squeezed her fingers where they rested near his elbow, muscles contracting all over again at the pleasurable thought of her impending demands.

"I'll give you one hint," Hermione said as she reached out for the door handle. "Don't expect to get much sleep tonight."

Ron melted through the door and into the corridor after Hermione.

Happiness, indeed.


	13. Happiness, Part 2

**Chapter 13 - Happiness, Part 2**

When they reached the corridor which held the entrance to the Room of Requirement, Ron touched Hermione's shoulder lightly and mouthed "I'll do it". She nodded and walked with him, taking his hand as he concentrated on what they needed.

_A place to spend the night where no one will find us..._

Images flashed through his mind of his perfect place, warm and dark and soft and-

The door revealed itself, and Ron pulled Hermione through, gazing at his creation as the door shut behind them. The room was completely different than it had been before, maroon and chocolate cushions covering the multi-colored woven rug, low chairs with fluffy backs sitting extra close to a stone fireplace, logs already burning and glowing. The room was oddly shaped, no definition to the walls, no logical pattern, and the walls were covered in tapestries, thick and cozy. The bed took up most of the available space that wasn't occupied with the puffy chairs and cushions piled up in a semi circle by the fire. The bed was fluffy and inviting, quilts covering it at random, neatly made up, yet somehow chaotic. Curtains hung from the canopy, chocolate and tan... very unlike the repetitive burgundy cloths that hung from the dormitory beds.

"This is perfect!" Hermione sighed, squeezing Ron's hand. He removed the invisibility cloak from over them and tossed it over the back of one of the chairs.

The room seemed to lull them into a peaceful happiness that radiated from every crevice.

Hermione moved to the fire and knelt before it on top of the cushions. Mesmerized and hypnotized by her glowing silhouette, Ron moved smoothly over to her and knelt beside her, palms against the tightly woven rug.

"It feels like a dream to actually be sitting here with you," Hermione said softly, eyes on the fire.

He watched her, licking and biting his lips as he tried to think of how to respond. It was overwhelming, silence around them, warmth and solitude in this place he'd unconsciously deemed his second home. But like the changing of the room itself, this _home _could be anywhere, as long as they were together. Did she feel the same way, really? Was it possible? After all this time and she'd said it herself - he'd acted against her wishes by leaving her. So, through all the suffering and not enoughs, it _had _been enough, in the end. As long as they had this...

Lacking the words he desired, he turned her face towards his with a soft touch of his index finger underneath her chin, and she studied him as her pupils danced in the firelight.

"Does it feel, to you, like we're the only people alive, the only ones left in the world?" she asked.

His lips curved up.

"When we're here, it's so easy to forget everything else..." she breathed.

He nodded.

"And you thought this wasn't enough for me..." she managed through a sad blink.

Lines of guilt made their way across his forehead.

"Well, how do you think_ I_ feel? Maybe, someday, this won't be enough for _you_."

He opened his mouth, but she ran through his protest with more of her delicately sighed out words.

"You're the free one, after all. You could leave again any time you wanted."

"Won't," he said firmly, eyes squinted through thickly furrowed brows. He'd been clear enough earlier, hadn't he. He'd left her for her sake. He never _wanted_-

"You say that now," Hermione half-whispered with a sad smile.

"Please believe me."

She kissed him, because how could she _really _believe him after what he'd done? Trust, it seemed, came down to two very different things. There was, perhaps, the way she'd trusted him before - blindly, and without reserve. And now, there was this new kind of trust - a bit hesitant, and most of all, unable to see too far into the future. Sure, she believed him _now_. She had to feel it in the way he touched her, the way his fingers wound into her hair, the way his lips parted hers...

...and parted _from _hers, just to say what he feared, to tell her again, because she _must _know. She must!

"I knew what this would be, between us," he began. "I told you. It didn't matter to me then. It doesn't matter to me now. Just one kiss... would have been enough..."

She shook her head, but kissed him again. His knees dug into the rug as he leaned up onto them to close more distance between them. Her chest met his, her hands on his back, fingers moving up into his hair...

She finally tilted her head back enough to look into his glassy eyes.

"No more talking, okay?" she requested.

He gave her a crooked smile with the left corner of his mouth, and she gave _him _a full smile, almost a grin. She placed a cold index finger against his lips, and the other corner of his mouth turned up to meet its partner.

He parted his lips and bit her finger gently, and he knew what would happen before it did... she giggled, and his heart soared, weightless through his chest at random, lighting every atom on fire.

She took her finger back from between his teeth, but only to lower her hands to the bottom hem of his shirt, sliding her palms inside, up his goosebump covered flesh. He tore his shirt away from his body, up over his head, disregarding the buttons, and tossed it carelessly somewhere behind him. There really was no point in prolonging her actions, not when they all, clearly, led him exactly where he wanted to end up.

But she had other plans, and she stood before he could stop her. She extended her hand and he took it, standing next to her. She pulled him towards the bed, and gestured for him to climb in first with a flirty tilt of her head.

"Give me your tie," she demanded, standing over the bed and holding out an open palm.

He shuffled back against the headboard and rocked onto his left hip as he removed the tie from his right pocket. Clearing his throat in what felt like a nervous gesture, he leaned away from the headboard long enough to drop the tie into her waiting hand. It somehow excited him to know he could still feel nervous around her, especially now when she knew what she was going to do... and she so clearly wanted to leave _him _in the dark.

"Lie down, and put your arms out like this," she instructed, extending both arms on either side of her body. Ron raised a questioning eyebrow, but complied without inquiring, stomach fluttering with excitement.

He watched as Hermione held his tie straight in front of her and withdrew her wand. With a quick flick, the tie split in two, and Ron raised his eyebrows as she pocketed her wand and crawled into the bed next to him... over him, straddling him for a moment before leaning towards his right hand. And then, through the haze of fascinated excitement, he realized what she was about to do, a second before she did it.

"Really? This one of your fantasies, tying me up?" he smirked.

She rolled her eyes playfully, not making eye contact as she worked with his right wrist, securing it to the bedpost. Ron shifted around on the mattress as she completed the first half of her task, but she straddled him fully again for a moment, clenching her thighs and glaring to stop him from moving. His smirk turned into a full fledged grin as she finally released him and continued on to his left wrist. He swallowed as he felt his excitement grow with each passing second at the possibilities.

"There," she said, nodding as she looking from his left hand to his right. But her expression quickly morphed into something far too devious, and Ron felt his eyebrows disappear into his fringe as he tried to guess her next move.

"What?" he questioned, voice far too shaky to sound remotely comfortable or confident. But, apparently, she had achieved some sort of goal, because she looked straight into his eyes, her own eyes sparkling with joy.

"Comfortable?" she asked, and he remained fearfully silent, desperately attempting to work out why she'd asked him in order to come up with the correct answer, for his own safety. Somewhat nervously now, he shrugged against the mattress, chest hairs standing on end with electric anticipation.

"Okay, what now?" he asked, because he had to say _something_. But she leaned forward, hovering over him, and he swallowed again as he waited for the moment when her chest would touch his. Though she was still fully clothed, he certainly wouldn't mind being touched by her breasts just now, as aroused as he suddenly realized he was. But her chest never quite met his, and it was the most incredible thing. He could _feel _her, though she never once touched him there. Torture.

He moaned, and she grinned wider.

"Bloody hell... just another inch... come on..."

"You want me to touch you?"

He stared into her dancing eyes and blinked.

"Guess," he said sarcastically. She laughed and he squirmed.

She sat up quickly, straddling him again with her strong thighs clenched tight on either side of his.

He opened his mouth to just say anything, anything at all that might come to mind that could possibly convince her to stop her games and shag him already. It wasn't like he didn't think she had the same eventual goal that he did. But before he could speak, she ripped her shirt off and tossed it to the floor.

He swallowed again.

"Come down here..." he half-groaned.

She shook her head, still grinning. And he had an idea.

Without pausing to think about it or give her any clues as to his next move, he bent his legs up rapidly, jostling her and sending her toppling towards him. She just caught herself with her palms to the mattress on either side of his head, just before she crashed completely down on top of him, but for a half-second, her chest met his, and, so tightly squeezed between her legs, he felt much of her body weight land in exactly the spot he wanted her to be... only, maybe he'd prefer it _without _her knickers and jeans and _without _his trousers and boxers between them...

Narrowing her eyes, she grabbed a fistful of his hair and yanked a bit too hard as she resumed her position, sitting on top of him.

He sighed shakily.

"At least take something else off..."

"Really?" she asked slowly. "That's what you want?"

He sighed again.

"Not just yet," she said, shaking her head.

"Okay..." he moaned. "Okay. Then what do you want me to do?"

"What do you want to do?"

"I've just told you!"

She grinned at his frustration.

He rolled his wrists around in the ties that bound him, trying to loosen them, and miraculously, he found that Hermione's knots hadn't been so tight after all. He was almost positive he could free his right wrist with a few carefully timed and planned twists. But he had to keep her distracted while he gave it a go.

Slowly, she ran a finger up from the waist of his trousers through the hairs that trailed up to his belly button... on up over his stomach and across his sternum. So slowly. So softly, like a feather.

He shivered, but forced a small portion of his brain to stay focused on his secret task.

"Do you like that?" she asked him.

"Oh, yes," he admitted.

She stopped immediately and reached behind her back to unfasten her bra, allowing it to drop onto his stomach before brushing it aside.

The remaining bits of his brain that had managed to work his right wrist halfway out of its binding crashed and froze, eyes glued to her newly exposed breasts.

"Maybe think you'd like to come down here now?" he asked, trousers far too tight. She shook her head. As if he'd been expecting it to be that easy anyway...

She wiggled around on top of him, and he was pretty sure he'd die from a heart attack if he didn't free his wrist soon and force her to end this game. So he managed, with desire at the forefront, to resume his former occupation momentarily and extremely stealthily.

"Okay, so... what's next?" he asked, breathing a bit too quickly. She noticed, and he knew that wasn't good, not when she was toying with him like this. She was getting some sort of sick pleasure out of his pain, he was sure. Not that he didn't think he deserved it after what he'd done. But still! He was ready to end it now.

"I just don't know..." she said slowly, biting her lip, feigning deep thought over her next move.

He was going to scream if this bloody wrist didn't come free-

And then, it did. And, miraculously, the tie half that had bound him fell back between the bed and the wall behind the headboard, lost.

"Hah!" he shouted triumphantly, arm lightning quick, hand attaching itself to her waist. But, with eyes narrowed again, Hermione threw her body backwards, away from him, and managed to free herself from his grasp long enough to crawl down his body, sitting on his feet.

"Cheater!" she huffed indignantly.

"Hermione, you have me tied to a bed and you're torturing me! Blimey..."

"You said you'd do anything," she recalled, eyes still narrowed but a single brow leaping up somehow. It was a bit too adorable, given the circumstances, and Ron paused to bite his lip to keep from smiling.

"Okay," he conceded for a second, "but you didn't forbid me to struggle!"

Maybe it was just to make him feel like less of a wanker for ruining her obvious fantasy. But she huffed again and glared at him and he dropped his arm limply to the mattress in a show of compliance.

"You're driving me mental," he whined, closing his eyes for a moment. And when he opened them, she looked hopefully up at him, moving a bit so she sat on his shins, cautious of his freed arm, but willing to accept that he'd do as she said and not try anything again, if he only said the words. So, shivering, he said them - "I won't try anything again."

"Promise?" she breathed.

He shivered as her naked breasts hung over his thighs as she climbed further up his body.

"Okay, _yes_," he groaned. "I bloody well promise, but you'd better not torture me for too much longer... or leave me like this all night!"

She grinned.

"Good," she said, and she suddenly jumped up onto her feet and unfastened her jeans, allowing them to drop, then kicking them off the edge of the bed. Well, now he just felt overdressed. But what the hell could he do about it? !

Ron moaned frustratedly. Hermione smiled deviously down at him.

"What do you want, Ron?" she asked him as she straddled him yet again, hands on his chest, moving up so slowly that he thought he would die from impatience.

"Not... gonna... tell you..." Ron managed to choke out.

"Why not?" Hermione asked him innocently.

"Because... you'll not let me have it... on purpose... _bloody tease_..." Ron clamped his eyes shut in an effort to calm down. It was more than clear that the more worked up he got, the more excited Hermione got... and the more likely she was to drag this out even longer.

He allowed his muscles to relax, as much as they could, and stared at her, waiting for her next move...

"Hm, I'll let you have _one _thing," she said slowly, biting her lip again, driving him mad.

"One thing? Anything?" he asked, mind already at work to find the perfect request.

"Okay, one _little _thing," she corrected, wiggling against him again. "And I get to decide if it's okay or not. Ready?"

"Yes, yes... one little thing... okay..."

He thought. And he thought. And he could feel her growing bored of waiting.

Fine by him. She could suffer a bit herself. And that's when it occurred to him...

"Take off the rest of our clothes," he requested.

She studied him skeptically for a long time.

And then, finally, she unbuttoned and unzipped his trousers, and he began to second guess his own plan. She pulled down, stopping for a second as something clearly occurred to her... some new idea to torture him with, he felt sure. And yes, he found out how right he'd been when she continued to pull his trousers down... using her _teeth_.

He forced himself to think of all sorts of things that had nothing to do with Hermione's naked body, her mouth hovering so close to him, grazing up against him once or twice...

It took all the strength he could muster to keep his free right arm still. He clenched his muscles, dug his wrist into the mattress, balled the quilts beneath him up in his fist...

She completed her task after what felt like years, and she sat up to yank his trousers over his feet and toss them over the foot of the bed.

"That's all," she said, "for now."

"Not fair," Ron complained, but he tried to keep his voice as level as possible.

Hermione shrugged and straddled him again. And he _third _guessed his plan...

"I think I like this," she half-whispered. "You have to do anything I say."

"You'd better be glad your bossiness turns me on..." Ron heard himself mutter. Well, that wasn't strictly to plan...

She grinned.

"I'll lock you up in this room every night," she began, sliding her hands up and down over his stomach, "and only come down here to make love to you and row with you and give you bits of chocolate and bread from the Great Hall."

Ron laughed excitedly.

"Fine with me."

"It's not supposed to be fine with you," Hermione said suddenly, raising an eyebrow. "It's more fun if you put up a fight."

A devious grin formed across _Ron's_ face now.

His plan was finally ready to be enacted.

"Oh, I _can _do that," he said as she lowered her body over his, taunting him again. "But I may use a slightly different technique..."

"What's that?" Hermione asked as he shifted his hips beneath hers, purposefully giving her a subtle teasing as she tried to remain in charge.

"I have a feeling we both want the same thing..."

Hermione breathed shakily through her mouth now, and he paused to delight in her struggle.

"Well, you've chosen to seduce me and make me suffer. So, I'll just wait. Eventually, you'll lose."

"You aren't _that _patient," Hermione said, though her tone plainly revealed that she was far from convinced.

"Mm," Ron shrugged lightly against the mattress. "We'll see." He released a fake, over-dramatized yawn, and Hermione blinked at him nervously. "G'night," he added as he closed his eyes, his whole body going limp.

Seconds ticked by. He felt her eyes on him, scandalized by his lack of reaction. She'd wanted him to beg, and he'd done enough of that. Now it was her turn.

"Ron?" she tried tentatively.

He did not respond.

"Prat! I know you aren't asleep!" she shouted, and he could _hear _the glare she shot at him.

Oh, if he could just keep this up for a few more minutes, he felt sure he'd have her. He tried not to feel too confident though, because a moment later, her weight shifted on top of him, and then lightened considerably before disappearing altogether. He had to focus every second on keeping his eyes shut. He was so curious about what she was doing...

He heard all sorts of rustling, then a jostling of the mattress.

He wanted nothing more than to find out _what she was doing_!

"Ron!" she shouted. But he didn't move. Fuck, how he wanted to move... Somehow, even the act of tormenting _her _was tormenting him too. So he couldn't win.

He felt her skin against his legs again, so hot and smooth. Something had to happen, right now, or he would burst.

He heard a muttered spell, and then he felt far colder than he had a second ago, drafty even.

Curiosity fully overwhelmed him. And he cracked open an eye.

"Sod you," Hermione breathed as she settled on top of him again. Completely naked. Both of his eyes opened wide immediately.

"Oh, fuck!" he screamed, unexpected pleasure coursing through him as she slid down on top of him. He was suddenly encased in her warm, wet flesh, and her back arched as she allowed her weight to press him fully into the mattress.

So she'd used a spell to rid him of his boxers.

Shit, he loved her.

He wanted so desperately to touch her, but he was promise-bound not to move. So he locked eyes with her and just let everything sink in, overwhelming him as she moved on top of him. How was it possible that he could feel how much she loved him each time she moved? He could do nothing but let it _be _possible, even though it wasn't logical. Because he could see it, as clearly as he could see her now, right in front of him.

She reached out to intertwine her fingers with his, sliding his limp, unbound arm across the mattress, closer to her.

"You... won... " she breathed. "Happy?"

"Ohhh... pretty sure we both won."

She squeezed his hand before dropping it. He let it fall to the bed, limp again. But she moaned throatily and slid her hands up his torso.

"I'm unfreezing you," she managed to say through gasps of pleasure. "You're unfrozen."

It took Ron far too long to figure out what the hell she was on about.

"Oh!"

So now, with permission to participate, he clutched her waist with his right hand, thumb pressed tight against her, just above his _own _skin, meshed with hers. He bent his knees and pushed up into her each time she dropped her weight on top of him. She screamed the first time, surprised for a moment, before her head dropped down to his shoulder, shuddering. But his brief pause as she leaned over him was too much for her.

"Don't stop..." she sighed as she clung to him, pushing her head up finally to lock eyes with him, her face inches above his.

"Couldn't, really," he said, arm wrapping smoothly around her waist.

And neither of them spoke again... until he felt familiar pleasure spasms break out across her back and shoulders as her weight increased on top of him, her face nestled against his neck. He shivered, exhausted, and squeezed her with his free arm.

He laughed. And she bit his neck lightly in protest.

"That was ridiculous," he breathed through his mirth.

"Good ridiculous?" she questioned, mouth muffled against his sensitive skin.

"_So _good... ridiculous."

He felt her smile against his collarbone.

"Want me to untie you?" she asked, lifting her head.

"Whatever," Ron sighed, closing his eyes. She swatted him gently across the chest as she climbed off of him with an 'oompf.'

"Doesn't matter now you got what you wanted?" she asked, and he grinned, eyes still closed, as she worked to untangle the binding around his left wrist.

"Pretty much," he admitted.

His hand dropped as the tie loosened completely. He felt the mattress shift and opened his eyes to watch her search for something. He blinked, trying not to let himself be pulled too far from the satisfied exhaustion he felt back into giddy anticipation at her naked body hovering around the edges of the bed.

"Ah," she said at last, stooping quickly to pick up her jeans, reaching into the pocket and drawing out her wand. "Accio," she said, aiming her wand at the headboard. Confused for a moment, Ron stared at her with a creased forehead, but he watched as the other half of his tie zoomed into her hand from the floor between the bed and the wall. "Reparo," she said, holding the two pieces together. The tie sealed up as one again, good as new.

She dropped it to the floor and crawled back into bed, untucking the quilts as much as she could with Ron's lanky weight on top of most of them.

"Move," she instructed, nudging him in the ribs with her index finger.

He squirmed away from her, laughing as she yanked the quilts free and cuddled down into them. He joined her quickly, tucking his legs under and scooting up to her until they were touching all over.

She let out a long satisfied breath as her forehead touched his briefly, her hair tickling his cheeks.

"You can't go to Hogsmeade with me, on Valentine's Day," Ron said through a yawn. It wasn't so much a concern as a stated fact. After he'd said it, he wondered if she'd understand, but she looked as happy as she had before, and he watched as she smiled softly at him.

"True, I'll go with Harry. So who will you ask, Weasley?"

He grinned.

"I think I'll invite Crookshanks."

Hermione toed him in the shin.

"Crookshanks hates you," she reasoned.

Ron raised an eyebrow.

"First of all," he began, "you've just now _finally _admitted what I've been claiming for years. And second, _you _hated me a long time ago-"

"Did not!"

"-and now you spend your free time chaining me down and shagging me."

She kicked him again, significantly harder. He winced, but smoothly moved past it to continue his speech.

"So, I reckon, perhaps, the same goes for Crookshanks... he may act all tough, but really, he's in love with me."

"Ron, Crookshanks has no interest in shagging you."

Ron tried to look serious, but it took less than a second for him to burst out laughing.

"Maybe _you _can go to Hogsmeade with Harry," she said, squeezing Ron's wrist and lightly digging in with her nails.

"Ah, true," Ron said, "but then what will _you _do without either of us for a whole day? !"

"I'm sure I can think of something."

"Aw, but it wouldn't be such a laugh taking _Harry _to Madam Puddifoot's. Don't reckon he'll ever show his face there again after what happened the last time."

Hermione giggled.

"What?" Ron asked, clueless.

"You and Harry... having tea in that wretched place."

Ron frowned exaggeratedly.

"You were my only hope! If you hate it too, now I'll never get to go!"

"Prat, as if you'd ever take me there. You have better taste than that."

"Why thank you!" Ron exclaimed, grinning again. "However, it must be pointed out that you've developed a habit of calling me 'prat' as often as you call me 'Ron.' Should I be worried?"

"It's your new nickname."

"New?"

She bit his nose and he closed his eyes.

"So, cross off one of your fantasies then?" he asked cheekily as he opened his eyes again.

But she grinned and he melted.

"Yes. So it looks like you're next."

"Next?" His stomach fluttered. "Shall I tell you a bit about my fantasies then?"

"Nope."

He raised his eyebrows. She shrugged.

"I think I've got it."

"Have you?" he asked, skeptically. But he quickly turned nervously curious. "How?"

"Just... you know. I know you."

"What do you think you know?"

"Everything."

He breathed raggedly through his nose.

"You can read my mind."

"Don't be daft," she said, tickling him. He wiggled up the pillow, away from her cold hands.

"I wouldn't put anything past you."

"Smart," she said as her hand stilled and he cautiously resumed his former position, buried in warmth up against Hermione.

He snuggled up even closer to her than before, and she returned the favour, arms and legs twisting and tangling tight.

"We can sleep here on Saturday night."

He blinked at her.

"Really? !" His voice left nothing to be guessed. Two syllables of speech, and yet he was openly thrilled, and fine with it.

"In fact," she continued, breathing slowly as her eyes drooped, "Saturday's a good night to do this, if we're going to keep this up."

"Saturday," he repeated, awed.

"Mm," she said, adopting her thickly logical tone, "because everyone sleeps late on Sunday, see."

"Right... blimey."

He blinked at her again, but found it harder to open his eyes all the way each time they closed.

"Fine line between-" she interrupted her thought with a yawn "-dangerous and overly cautious... for us."

He riddled his way through her words.

"This fits somewhere neatly in the middle." Her eyes closed, but she struggled to open them again, to keep looking at him.

"Couldn't agree more," he breathed, her hair fluttering with his exhale. "Go to sleep."

"Mmm..."

"You're perfect."

Her lips turned up as her eyes slipped shut, and with a final sigh, she settled her body against his and breathed evenly.

With thoughts of fantasies and Saturdays, Ron slept, his world inside the circular breadth of his arms.


End file.
